


(two) woman(s) in love

by hausofval



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BUT WAS A HAPPY END, BUT WE TAKE CARE OF LILITH ZELDA AND MARY, Demonic Possession, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, I promise, Post-Caligari Spell (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but sabrina is not a main character, caos adults and sabrina, in this universe no one ever heard of therapy, lilith is evil and hurts mary but she is good inside and she proves it, please read the Reading Agreement, starts way too deep and gets even more deep, starts way too painful and gets even more painful, there is no psychologist in this fic, yes i do too thats why thats the name of the fanfic, yes mary wardwell likes barbra streisand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hausofval/pseuds/hausofval
Summary: Two women who temporarily were not in control of their own body finding freedom and love together.It sounds like a love story, but it is, above all, one story about individual cure and how it is more significant when it is made in a conjoined way and with the person you love.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Original Mary Wardwell
Comments: 32
Kudos: 54





	1. Reading Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Mary Wardwell was possed alive and kept conscious by the Mother of Demons, a mystical entity that controlled her with zero space to objections until her main objective was concluded. Deaths at the snap of a finger and visits of the Fallen Angel became, against her will, part of her routine, as much as a slave of Lilith's will, trapped in her own body, and, in the same proportion, while free, thanks to memories and nightmares. 
> 
> But there was not only pain. There was also Zelda Spellman. 
> 
> Zelda Spellman and the memories of the short romance both lived before the redhead witch discovered that Satan’s concubine had claimed the Baxter High teacher’s body as hers. 
> 
> Even hiding, matriarch of the Spellmans also had deep scars. After the breakup between her and the secretly dual figure Mary Wardwell was, a loveless marriage was all that Zelda thought had was left for her, and, giving an opening to one more suffering, the Caligari Spell happened and caused another misery in her soul. 
> 
> Zelda believed the recipient of her feelings, too strong to be forgotten, was the current Queen of Hell, however, to her surprise, who claimed her heart was the human that, between such anguish and confusion, had found a little Peace on the red locks of the witch that did not leave her mind.

**_Reading Agreement_ **

This fanfiction mainly exists because, while watching Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, I felt uncomfortable about some specific points, so I am using my writing gift to “fix” them. To not diminish the importance of this point in one simple “initial note” I decided to appropriate the term “Reading agreement”, seen in one DragonQueen fanfic read years ago, to make everything clear to you all. 

  * The most simple thought of a superior being, literally an entity, that survives in the depths of hell with a limited amount of vitality (since it does not receive any offerings and/or prayers, due to its almost null popularity among the living) possess a dead body, as Lilith did with Mary Wardwell’s body, it’s a joke. Lilith wants vitality and strength, that is why the possession occurs occurred and proceeds with the teacher’s body alive and its mind conscious.



  * There is no logic with Lilith feeling comfortable in Mary’s skin to the point of, after get her crown in Hell, continuing hiding who she is inside of an inferior body. Entities are extremally narcissists, they love and admire themselves, and the Mother of Demons is no exception, so in this fanfic, Lilith will use the greenish demonic appearance whenever she feels safe to be herself. A question one may have is “Why Madam Satan does not use the human appearance she had during her years in Eden?” and the answer I have to offer you is, in my point of view, Lilith does not see that esthetic as yours, but as “God’s modeling playdough”. I believe that observing the human appearance reflex delivered to her in Eden by God, Lilith feels diminished to what “God wanted to Adam” and not to what her essence as, choosing so her demonic image.



  * Being a feminine figure created by the All-powerful only to be the pair of earth’s first man, and give descendants to him, I believe that, thanks to her raw nature, Lilith wants to be a mother. My mind shouts that due to her scape of Edens‘s gardens before getting to satisfy this forced on her mind by God when he made her, she calls herself Mother of Demons and give life to them trying to fulfill this hole in her chest. In this fanfic, I plan to fulfill this blank peace.



  * Adam Masters is a good man. I still can feel the taste of the bursting tears on my face when I think he died that way. That’s why, in this fanfic, Adam is already dead when Mary Wardwell’s possession took place because the character’s goodness and kindness did not deserve a failed and unjust deveopment. Mary loves him, even dead, he will always have a space in her heart, doesn’t matter who she is with.



  * It hatred me to remember all Mary Wardwell’s and Zelda Spellman’s trauma, after being possessed/bewitched/charmed/hypnotized, were simply ignored. No one who lived such an emotional experience would be fine the next day, something the show tried to sell us with Zelda’s behavior after the Caligari Spell. I promised to try to be the most faithful to Mary’s personality and, most of all, the redhead’s, however, I need emotional explosions, because, before being the responsible and strict matriarch, she is a witch with feelings and not a robot.



  * We saw in the third season, that Lilith is... a terrible leader (as much as a supreme religious entity – to witches-, as the government of a place – to residents of hell). I know they wanted to show some kind of Infernal-sexism, however, that still is something that, most of all, angered me because she’d be better than that. So, I created a pass where she could learn to be an excellent leader and a clever government. Lilith is not perfect, because perfection is inexistent, nonetheless, in this fanfic, she tries and learns to be the best version of herself each day. 



I do not believe I need to, since I left explicit this is a Spellwell fanfiction, but, to clear my consciousness and respect to the readers, I declare that in no moment of this work Lilith and Zelda will have a romantical and/or emotional engagement true and mutual, as explained in the beginning notes, however, the justification, that it is the right to any reader that ended up in this story having their heart stolen by the couple MadamSpelman and not SpellWell, will show in one specific chapter. 

I ask for your vote of confidence and hope this Reading Agreement leaves you more at ease with the story you are about to read. I am open to every and any future question, in case something was not clear enough. 

Thank you to dedicate your time to this work!

Sincerely, 

Val 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But, mostly, Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake because, in less than four months, fighting and suffering from the green creature that possed and monopolized every action of her body, she found herself completely in love with Zelda Spellman. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone!
> 
> If you are religious I hope you have used this day to connect spiritually with whatever is the target object of your faith. If you are not, I hope you ate a lot of chocolate!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you like it!

Born in Greendale, daughter of elderly parents, Mary Wardwell always liked helping. During childhood, she’d give the test answers to her colleagues who didn't know them. During her adolescence, she visited hospitals and orphanages, reading histories about enchanted kingdoms to doped children and playing dolls with lonely children. She always liked the histories and, for a while, she wanted to be a librarian, but the thought of being a teacher happened to attract her more, and that was done. 

Mary worked as a high school teacher and was beloved by her students. The owner of the sweet blue eyes loved them too but had a special affection for Sabrina Spellman. That night, the dark-hair lady found the student after one movie session. The blond was with three other classroom colleagues, Harvey Kinkle, Rosalind Walker, and the lovely Susie Putnam, and she invited her to join them for a movie discussion in Cerberus Books.

Mary denied. She liked the book store, but hang out with her students did not sound so right so she started her way back home. 

Wardwell always liked driving, especially on the open road. It was something about independence, or about the freedom she felt behind the wheel that fascinated her. Mary always had a copy of her favorite album in the glove compartment, and, when the soft Barbra Streisand’s voice left her radio, everything of that night became better. 

Love came, but it arrived late and left early. Adam was kind, loving and caring, but a plane crash when he’d get back from a trip to his parents took him away from her months before their wedding. Maybe this was another factor as to why she preferred driving, but she never liked to think about it. 

Between a second and another, Mary saw a girl’s figure appear, standing in the middle of an open road making her brake the car. The teacher got off of the car to look around, finding herself alone with the poor young girl begging for help. 

_Who she’d be? Alone in the middle of nowhere?_

And again, Mary Wardwell always liked to help. 

She decided to take the girl to her home and, while they are driving, promised to help her clean herself and that she’d call a doctor the next morning. 

The broken and nervous young girl nods and, only when they enter Mary’s house, lifts her head up. The girl has pale and dirty skin, tangled oily hair and tattered clothes and, by one second, Mary is afraid that she suffered more than she looks. 

The blued-eye-woman instructs the girl to sit in a chair, but, while she turns her back to look for a towel and clean clothes, the girl is not there anymore. 

Before she even moves towards the hallway, Mary feels. 

It is a twinge in her soul, it is uncomfortable to her mind, burns the throat and hurts her body. 

And now her consciousness, before lonely and only, has company. She has green and mucous skin, skull eyes and sharp teeth and, with only one slap in her face, Mary’s consciousness faints. 

Lilith's first thought was to go to the Academy through the road, find a strong and good witch to combine their powers while possing their appearance. Then Mary Wardwell showed up and she was surprised by another thought. 

Lilith doesn't even have to try. Humans are extremely weak and, for some reason she does not know, fate made her meet with the weakest among them on the road. Kind, friendly. _For Satan’s sake, the woman led me to her home without even asking for my name!_

One part of Eden’s fugitive screamed to just kill the pathetic woman, but dead human bodies smelled more terrible than hell’s sulfur and she had neither patience or strategy that justified moving between bodies during her staying on Earth. 

Inside the mind of the human body, with only one slap, the inferior’s creature’s mind was unconscious. 

And that is because the mind of the human body was her strongest part. She could never beat me. 

_“Who are you? WHAT ARE YOU? WHAT YOU ARE DOING HERE? GET OUT!”_

But as fast as the voice spoke, it shut. Traped in hiccups and screams while the Fallen Angel’s concubine played with her conscience and tested how far she could take it. 

It was a different pain in everything. It did not leave any marks on her skin, as it was made inside the walls of her mind, but it was the most substantial than any other she had ever suffered until her conscience was turned black again. 

Mary’s conscience was asleep during three weeks and the mental fragmentation of her body shivered leaned over the reddish wall in her psyche for five weeks while Lilith was getting used to the matter she now possed. Baths, human meals, changes in wardrobe, wearing heals and even the unusual work as a teacher. 

_“Who are you?”_

The question sounded inside the walls of that human mind, just hours after the teacher’s conscience awake. The softness of the voice reminded Eden’s fugitive of when Mary took care of her, in her younger disguise, and maybe was that memory that made Lilith look to the figure of the owner’s body she now possed. 

Nose bleeding, unkempt and loose hair, shrug, scared and sitting body. But her voice still has kindness and softness. 

_“I am Lilith. And I will use this moving meat for a while...”_

_“Please...”_

_“Do not lose your vitality begging me to leave, I have a goal and I will finish it.”_

Mary’s conscience swallowed hard while she watched and felt her body moving against her own will, without being able to do anything. 

Eventuality the plans of history’s first woman began to created form. She started to force Mary’s body to follow Sabrina. The human conscience was still confused, but, while nothing bad had been made against the teenager, she would not risk scolding the powerful entity. 

But everything lost strength and sense on the day Mary’s body was taken, by Lilith, to the Speelman’s mansion. Zelda is who answers the door, wearing a dark green set of clothes that fit her perfectly and, when the palpable body is invited to enter, the real legs of Mary Wardwell’s body fail, drawing attention to the Mother of Demons. 

When searching for the brunette’s face, she’s found looking for support on the reddish walls of her thoughts with face and neck blushed, an attitude that made the entity in her control wonder how strong really is the consciousness of the human she possed. 

It was needed only two weeks of shameless provocations and dirty flirtations to Zelda ask the woman to join her to her house on a Friday night. And there, unintentionally, the teacher’s conscience also took control of her body. During only two seconds the blue eyes were wide open and her pale skin was reddish, but the green figure found its way back to full body control and accepted the invitation. 

That night she screamed with Mary’s conscience and tortured her until she passed out, demanding one explanation to the human overtook of the body near the oldest Spellman, receiving only whips and confused murmurs in response. 

Wardwell’s conscience only awaked ten hours after, and, when she stood leaning on the walls of her body’s sense, she feels wrong. Her body was wrong and like a hit, she realizes the pain inside her legs and does not believe in what Lilith has done. 

When her hand found the middle of her thighs, everything becomes much more sensible and tears blur her vision whilst, for the first time, Mary’s conscience physically assaults the entity. 

_“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? DID YOU RAPE ME?”_

Even getting beaten, the underestimated conscience does not stop scratching the mucous skin in front of her. The entity, self intituled Madam Satan, is surprised with the strength of the human mind, extremely superior to what she imagined, even almost null compared to what really could hurt her. 

_“I need and I will gain the Spellman’s trust so I suggest that you get back to sleep.”_

Knowing that any form of protest in uneffective she screams, cries, but eventually stops fighting for control and goes back to sleep. However, she does not do that all the time. 

Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake when Zelda is about to open the beautiful green eyes in the morning. Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake when Zelda touches her face kindly. Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake when Zelda smiles saying her name. Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake when Zelda calls her to lunch, something she does not understand why Lilith accepts doing every week. But, mostly, Mary’s conscience keeps itself awake because, in less than four months, fighting and suffering from the green creature that possed and monopolized every action of her body, she found herself completely in love with Zelda Spellman. 

If one person with full power showed up to Lilith and granted her with one only wish, the entity would love to change the humans' daily vitality. She tried leaving Mary’s body awake with no breaks, with only her consciousness asleep while the entity led her wishes. However, on the second day, the peace of moving meat already did not respond to her commands as quickly and did not act in the same way. 

So, they enter an agreement. It was eight hours of sleep for night and not one minute more. Mary doesn’t dream very much, never has. 

Every night it was made of a welcoming nothing. But, after a couple of months, dreams started to appear. 

Mary dreams about moments in which she was free of Lillith almost every night, and that plays with the sense of justice of the Mother of Demons. after all, she knows what she does is not right, and a voice inside her screams that the human does not deserve this, but until she gets her crown she’ll have time to found something to compensate Mary. 

But in one night she is not alone , she is with Zelda. Both of them walk holding hands smiling to one another on a beach. It is simple, it is pure and it is unique. 

This is the day, since after the possession started, that Mary Wardwell’s body awaked with the strongest vitality. And this vitility was even more significant when Sabrina asked her to the Spellman’s home. 

Looking at Zelda she thought about the redhead, in her sweet scent and loving touches. But the soft touches did not last long, the sweet smell of Zelda’s hair didn’t grace her as much, because Lilith is discovered. 

Sabrina demands a sincere explanation and the entity says who she is to every person in that room, but not the reason she is there. 

Lilith has her attention focused on the teenager’s face, asking herself if she will have the courage to ask about Mary Wardwell, however, she doesn’t do it, already concluding that she is dead. 

But the teacher’s conscience was busy with the eyes of the redhead, before neutrals and full of life, now it was lost and foggy in tears, although with a little pitch of hope. Mary’s conscience wanted to scream, tear down the skin of her body and jump out. It wanted to say she was still there. That she was hurt. That she needed help. That she was weak. It wanted to ask if being like that could be enough. 

But before any of her thoughts became actions, the legs of her body follow against her command out of the Spellman's home, and her last view was the woman she loves while one silent tear drops through her right cheek. 

Murphy’s Law says that, if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong. And more, it will go wrong in the worst possible way, in the worst moment and in a way that causes the most possible damage. Mary, as a teacher, consequently repeated the thought a million times, even though she herself believes the phrase is a dramatic way to lead a life, but on that day she believed. 

Her conscience was stood up, walking from one side to another, bored and tired of feeling her body vandalized by the greenish entity and accomplishing commands against her will. Until the red flame that burned alive in the fireplace went out, capturing the attention of both minds. 

At the moment the smoke was replaced by a blue flame, the fugitive of Eden Garden touched Mary's mouth and hands and whispered a silent spell. Now the conscience, already weak and down, felt, even more, debilitate, even so awake. 

Lilith started shaking and, after taking a long breath, she said, backed away from the dinner table, one only sentence, using the body disguise she appropriated. 

“Hello, my Lord.” 

Even groggy, Mary’s conscience could see with whom the greenish entity forced her body to talk to. The humanoid figure similar to a goat was terrifying, and the more Mary’s conscience tried to hold her fear, the more were the scary tears drop out of her face. 

Even before she realized, the tears also dropped out of the possessed thin body, capturing the full attention of the Dark Lord. 

“Why are you crying, _my_ Lilith?” 

And there it was. The possessive pronoun that, at the beginning of time, was a demonstration of kindness, but quickly shifted to a superior tone, always demonstrating that he was bigger than her, more powerful and more important than her. Besides the most important, that she belonged to him. 

_His_ woman. _His_ which. _His_ concubine. _His_ object. 

“I cry for all the love and respect that I have for you. I’ve missed you, my Lord.” 

The excuse was given while the arms of her body moved quickly towards the face, scattering, uselessly, Mary’s tears that ran down there. 

_“Stop crying! He can't notice that you are awake.”_

“Did you really miss me? Because I saw you enjoying the flesh of the Spellman’s matriarch. She is one of the most faithful among the living whiches and can’t be a distraction to your job, Lilith.” 

Mary’s eyes were wide open, but before any unseen movement shown in the exterior body, the entity that kept control squeezed the teacher’s arm in a soothing way. 

“I needed to gain the confidence of the Spellman family, my Lord, but she is not, nor ever will be, one threat to our goal.” 

So, the beast moved his arms towards the possed body’s face and pet it. 

“I knew you’d make everything go right, _my_ Lilith.” 

Before getting back to hell, Lucifer asked why she did not get rid off of the human disguise, but the Mother of the Demons answered him that was no prudent, even after her identity was revealed to Spellman Family since she did not know when it would be necessary to walk among the other citizens of the town. 

At the moment that a dense cloud swallowed the humanoid commander of Hell, sending him there, Mary’s conscience could not bear and, taking control of the body, throughout everything she had in her human stomach in the middle of the living room. 

After that night, Mary’s dark circles are bigger, her body shivers even more during the night, her sweet dreams were replaced for visions of the King of Hell in her living room, her mouth dries with any and every unfamiliar sound. And, Mary and Zelda Spellman are driven apart... for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are extremely welcome!  
> Unfortunately, as I write in Brazilian Portuguese and eventually translate with Laura into English, I don't have a schedule for the posts of this fanfic, however comment what you think, share what you feel, indicate the fanfic to friends! There is no better stimulant than your answer to make me work!
> 
> Again, thank you very much!  
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Help Zelda!”, The voice of human conscience sounds careless and broken, but it still goes on, “You are powerful! Help her!”

Zelda is a woman who was never confused or lost. She always started and ended the most important conversations of her life, always proved her point in a dramatic and safe way in any discussion. But here, in the living room of her own residence, she felt confused and lost. Her chest hurt as she remembered that the dark-haired entity, now uncovered, had left without speaking to her, in heavy and decisive steps, without even a second look behind her. 

Her mind worked at full activity, creating hypotheses for the meaning of those four months. 

_I couldn't have felt it all alone._

As quickly as she could, the redhead teleported herself to her bedroom, not bothering to explain anything to anyone and locking the door. At that moment, it was convenient to know that Hilda had changed rooms and would not see her that way. 

As she removed her clothes and changed for her nightdress, Zelda let her memory drift extremely treacherously straight to blue eyes. 

In the first weeks that they talked, the dark-haired woman's eyes sounded darker to Zelda, having a blue never seen by the witch. It was beautiful and dangerous, just as she imagined the flames of hell, but after that something changed. 

The first time they slept together, Zelda paid no attention to how the irises behaved, almost forgotten in her pupil dilation. But she knows that when she called Mary, _or rather Lilith_ , to have a drink, share a lunch or even accompany her to the library, where all they did was lie on top of each other and caress their roots, those eyes were different. 

It was no less beautiful blue, but purer. It was the color she imagined the False-God had chosen for the most beautiful of all the heavens, and although she had lived more than a century, she had never looked up and found such beauty. 

_Would Satan's favorite concubine feel affection for me?_

Her mind screamed, demanding an answer that she knew she wouldn't have, unless she asked it, and so she does. 

Zelda called Mary Wardwell's home and cell number for weeks, wanting to speak to her. But what she didn't know was that Lilith got rid of the machines when the first calls started. 

The redhead also teleported to the teacher's house a hundred times, trying to have a conversation with the fugitive from the Garden of Eden. However, Lilith made and forced Mary's body to wear a dark ring that made it impossible for the red-haired witch to see or feel her. And so the redhead's hopes fade, like sand slipping from a clenched fist. 

Lilith wants distance from the redhead and Mary's conscience and body suffer as if a part of her was going away. And that part is too important to go away. 

But still, Zelda is gone. The calls reduce until none end and the unexpected visits follow the same example. 

Zelda cries some nights and scourges herself on others, hoping to feel more pain than this rejection. The owner of the dark curls arrived subtly and won her over so quickly. 

If she had been known and lived these four months with the dark-haired lady during her adolescence, Zelda would be fascinated with the nights shared with the woman. 

All the lust they shared made her feel young, as in her Academy days when she rolled up the waist of her skirts, making them shorter to move her legs around while running in the forest. But as soon as she saw another facet of the dark-haired woman, everything became more significant. 

Mary was kind, careful, intelligent, and... just what Zelda wanted, but she wouldn't admit. Until today. 

Today Mary was not Mary, _was Lilith_. 

_Mary did not exist. Lilith existed._

Zelda always had a delicate and theatrical soul, which consequently transformed her into a dramatic witch. In her childhood and teenage days, her nickname between the walls of the Academy was “the actress” thanks to her appearance, always spotless, and her peculiarities, always dramatic. 

And this dramatic soul felt her ego massaged, after all, no legend or fable would even incite the existence of any lover who received affection from Lilith, besides the First Man and the Dark Lord, the one who retained all her love and devotion. Now imagine being worthy enough to receive love from that entity? 

But the part of her heart, hopeful and flattered, quickly felt used and deceived. 

_Why didn't she tell me who she was? Why doesn't she answer me? Why doesn't she want to see me?_

And without an answer is who Zelda finds herself, day after day. 

The separation seems to be definitive and for that reason, after a few weeks, Zelda gets closer to Faustus Blackwood. The widowed priest has power and that seduces her. She does not feel the same way she did for the dark-haired woman, however, it is pleasant and it is easier. 

Their encounters are different. Always arenas, theaters, or dinners, and although Zelda doesn't want to admit it, she knows very well why. 

Faustus is a perfect partner when his mouth is closed or busy. His ideas of reality are distorted and delusional, which makes the redhead fear for her rationality by listening to the priest talking about how female demons are more fragile than males in her first meeting with him, even Zelda herself knowing that demons are genderless and only entities are divided like that. That day, she promised herself that she would do anything to keep Blackwood silent when he was next to her. 

The proposal and marriage are simple and manageable, consequently, it becomes much less than Zelda's dramatic soul would like to receive, but still, she responds affirmatively. 

The union also does not take long to happen, quickly and again simple. Entering the Profane Church at the sound of the wedding march, before saying the long-awaited "yes", Zelda looks around the guests, hoping to find the brilliant blues begging the redhead to run away with her. Zelda, a woman who hated surprises and always organized all her steps, was sure that if she received this proposal, she would go without thinking twice. 

Blackwood offered a blood sacrifice to the demons of marriage and passion in the middle of the ceremony. Astaroth, Furfur, Hathor, Ishtar, Saleous, Uvall, and Vassage received a fragile sheep in Zelda's honor and, when the redhead believed it was impossible to be even more ashamed, Faustus made her drink the blood of the sacrificed being with him. On the first sip, Zelda wanted to throw up. 

The blood looked disgusting even with the usual color and liquidity, the coppery taste was replaced by something that Zelda did not know how to describe, but she was sure of one thing, that was not the taste of a good marriage. 

Nevertheless, they get married and on the honeymoon, Zelda's life grows as a nightmare. 

The Caligari Spell is classical, the sorcerers of millennia ago used to control slaves and society with them, to continue their government. But patriarchy was even more perverse when the victims principally became their wives and daughters when they became arrogant, or rather when they showed personality. 

Zelda's soul cried out for help from anyone who could hear her while her conscience was losing control of her body. But nothing hurt as much as her face, smiling as the man with wide pupils hurt her from the inside out. Again and again, for days, weeks, and months. 

In Rome, she screamed. But in Rome, nobody hears it. 

When they return to the quiet city everything worsens, Zelda's conscience sees sadness and confusion in her family's gaze when she sees her body behaving strangely and the redhead wants to tear her own skin in search of freedom. But she does not, instead, her mind creates, within the reddish walls of her senses, an image of blue eyes to preserve her sanity until she finds a way out of this daily torment. 

Hilda was a witch who called herself with superpowers. Since her teenaged years, she knew everything about phytology and gardening, made the best drinkable spells and the best meals anyone has ever seen, however, her greatest gift was always to know first of all when something was wrong and, at the moment that Zelda came back from her Honeymoon, everything in her mind lost color between the anxiety to see her older sister that way. 

Hilda was worried, she felt something was wrong and that's why when Mary, or rather, _Lilith_ , whose figure has often become usual on the sofa at the Spellmans' house, asks her if Zelda has returned from Roma, the youngest of the brothers fails in holding back tears. 

Telling what she believes to know, the blonde witch cries out desperately for help. 

" _Help her!_ ", Mary's conscience screams, startling the entity in front of her. 

" _What?_ ", Lilith's voice sounds, for the first time through the walls of Mary's senses, confused, but the teacher's conscience leaves no doubt in understanding her request. 

“ _Help Zelda!_ ”, The voice of human conscience sounds careless and broken, but it still goes on, “ _You are powerful! Help her!_ ”, As if thinking of something that would make the entity agree, Mary fell silent until an idea passed by her and, as fast as she could, it dropped to her knees at Lilith's feet, “ _Help her and I will no longer fight for control and... I will sleep as long as you need to!_ ” 

Lilith didn't need to give up on Mary's conscience. It was simple, the body was out of control and the Mother of the Demons grabbed the reins of the senses again. But looking at the tired face and imploring eyes, the entity found herself accepting and directing Mary's body to wait for Zelda in the Spellmans' chair. 

_This body makes you weak. Earth makes you weak and makes you feel guilty!_ These are the silent thoughts inside Lilith's mind, and she, remembering her past, believes that this is true. 

Hundreds of years ago she had also visited Earth, exactly three times, and each time, Lilith had felt the same weakness and doubt that she felt now. 

The first time she asked Lucifer for permission to visit her old home, it was after rumors among the novice souls of Hell. Apparently, humans had created a substance that burned without flames, and the concubine from Hell, with all her curiosity, wanted to see what it was. 

So, the first witch visited Earth. It was different from what she remembered, obviously since she had spent millennia locked up in the underground flames. 

That time, she took over a male body. A Chinese general who had gray hair and a deep voice. And through his eyes she saw the black substance in action, tearing through the flesh of humans and burning on the way. Gunpowder. 

It was surreal how intrigued and mesmerized the entity was with the armaments. Not that she needed one, but after that day, Lilith collected these innovative objects. Countless rifles, pistols, daggers, revolvers, all well kept in Hell, being requests that she demanded from bodies that sold their souls for more vitality. 

As soon as Lilith owned Mary Wardwell's body, she went to buy one. It was small, black and thin projectiles. Throughout the possession, she controlled the body to keep the gun locked in a clothes closet. The first witch did not need it, but from the pleasant memory that gunpowder instigated her the first time she felt alone and free from the doors of Hell, she just wanted it. 

The second time Satan's concubine left Hell for the home of the living, the reason was different. Souls said that Christians were killing, using their precious gunpowder. 

Christians, the same ones who created rules that exalted fraternal love between them were... hurting themselves? Lilith would do anything to see this, and so she did, sleeping with whoever was needed without complaining, just imagining what it would be like to see human faces ignoring all the teachings they believed to be so important. 

And there she was on Earth, just in time to attend The First Crusade - the great conflict between Orthodox Christians and Muslims. 

There was no policy, if not pure and raw monarchism, in Hell. It was interesting to see how things happened, to observe human behavior, especially with the body she had chosen: A devout and kind caucasian priest. How ironic was that? 

She had fun teleporting into battle for a few nights, but everything changed when a woman visited the Church. She was black and carried a girl, very similar to the same woman, in her arms. Their bones were visible, almost tearing the skin for thinness and their faces were stained with tears of agony. 

“Father, please give me something for my daughter to eat! That's all I ask! I cannot lose my girl. ” 

And at that moment, the war didn't matter. Gunpowder did not matter. Christians did not matter. All that mattered was that voice inside your mind saying to save the girl from death. 

Still, in Eden, Lilith knew that her destiny was to populate the earth and knew that the False-God had given her the desire to do so when she created her for Adam, but she did not know that it would be so strong and devastating. The first women who were now an entity among all had no idea how much she wanted someone to be her own to care for, until now. 

Quickly, the first witch used the possessed body to search the Church's pantry for any substantial food and, before handing over the two humans, enchanted them, so that their bodies would never suffer without food. And when she felt, even inside the priest's mind, a hug from the little child on her legs and saw her grateful smile, any punishment that Lucifer condemned would be a small price to pay. 

But Lucifer did not care or pretended it very well, and when she returned to Hell, everything was as it was before, except the memory that lived in her thoughts. 

The agony consumed her for moons, until, in the lava of hell, Lilith drew something. 

It wasn't a human, it wasn't an animal, it wasn't an angel, but it was something. Hidden she did it, but it would not remain that way for a long time because, after shaping it as she wanted, she blew a little of her life on _him_. 

When it got up, she was amazed and threw herself into _his_ arms, naming _him_ as her first child and herself, now, as the Mother of Demons. 

Hundreds of years passed and her children were now legions in Hell, but with another rumor, Lilith's insatiable curiosity was aroused. But now it was about an illness, or rather an epidemic.

New souls spread among their children that a plague would have been launched by the False God in humans, to punish them. The buzzing started among all the residents of Hell, who feared whatever the Black Death was, but out of curiosity and, to contain the hysteria, The Mother of Demons made her existence available to be sent to Earth during that chaos. 

Her children cried lava when she left and Lilith suffered with them. Arriving in Europe, she was quick enough to have a healthy body and charm him against any disease, choosing an elderly merchant with curly hair and pale skin. 

Now it was time to wait, if it was really His punishment, she would die there. But it was not. 

The contagion with the disease was nothing divine, it was just a natural response to bad hygiene habits. Rat and flea bites or airborne transmission were the only ways of contagion. In its bubonic variation, later discovered by Lilith, the plague created painful swellings between the armpits and the groin. Over time, they spread throughout the body, and in about a week, the human died. 

She didn't have time to memorize any human or witch names she encountered, they were all wiped out. Everyone died, whether they were young, old, men, women, or children. 

What hurt her was the death of the little ones, when younger they were worse. The desperate cry of a baby who did not know what was happening to him was heartbreaking for Lilith. 

On the day that she planned to return to her hellish home, ready to get rid of the possessed body, she found a couple lying next to a fountain. 

Again, her curiosity was stronger and she watched them. The man held the woman in his lap as if his life depended on it, but watching closely, her life depended. 

The woman was already in the final stages, it was just a matter of time for life to drain from her body. But the one who wet her hair was healthy. Just a few more minutes and she saw the woman delirious in pain, but he was still there and, surprising the viewer, kissed her. 

Lilith had already kissed people. 

She kissed Adam. She kissed Lucifer. And was kissed by them. But the kiss she witnessed was different and totally unknown. The subtle touch of lips carried something and, even though she didn't know what it was, the Mother of Demons saw that it was so pleasant that it filled her with life. 

“Sir,” when the body he owned was discovered, the man carrying his beloved called to him, “can I ask you for something?” 

"What would that be, young man?", Even though it was more uncomplicated to simply deny and distance herself from the couple, Lilith found herself instructing the merchant to find out what could ease the pain of the one in front of him. 

“When she dies, which will be soon,” his caramel eyes were already shedding tears, but he continued “her suffering will end, but to live without her would start mine. We have been together for fifteen years and I don't know how I will live without her, so please... end my life.” 

On the merchant's body, Lilith nodded and left. 

_Be prepared to give up your life if it cannot be enjoyed with someone else. Who would I do that for?_

She thought of Adam and how quickly she gave up on him for herself. Then her mind took her to Lucifer, but her love mixed with gratitude, and the desperate young man never mentioned that. 

_He just... loves._

Her mind landed on how she loves her children, her demons, but only for a moment, as her feeling for them was very different from what that couple shared. 

The next morning, she forced the merchant to send the boy to bathe in his residence and, after drying himself with a red cloak, to bring it to dry his wife. 

And so it was done, wearing the mantle bewitched with health and prosperity, both shared a sweet and pleasant life until old age demanded them to leave that world. 

When the Mother of the Demons arrives in Hell, she offers the excuse that she was discovering all the means of transmission of the Black Death to alert them. But the damage is already done because, in her absence, the King of Hell punished her children, discounting his anger by imagining that Lilith would not return to him. 

She spent weeks shaping everyone again while thinking about the young man and his wife living for each other. But she was not and never would be that way. 

All of this because there, while tears were also streaming from her eyes as her fingers molded the lava on her children, a thought vibrated Lilith's mind. 

_Maybe, just maybe, Hell would be better if I commanded alone._

But thoughts and memories flew away from her head, when Mary Wardwell's body, even in her grip, was agitated when saw Zelda Spellman enter the room, looking different and disturbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are, again, extremely welcome!  
> Laura (my friend who was helping me translate this fanfic) just started watching my favorite series, which is Desperate Housewives, so I'm temporarily leaving her free to unravel the mysteries of Wisteria Lane and working on these translations alone.  
> I don't know if that means the chapters will take more or less time to be posted, but I just ask for patience and encouragement to continue. 
> 
> Again, thank you very much!  
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was hurting. Until the redhead pulled her head away from the shoulder that she collided and searched her face, finding the beautiful and precious blue irises, so clear and full of affection that they made her eyes burn with tears again.

Lilith knows, in the moment that she looks at the red-haired witch, what the spell is and what it is capable of. So the entity instructs Mary's body to ask Sabrina to teleport to the Academy and look for the wooden music box that Hilda says she saw. 

Zelda's skin starts to sweat and her mind screams for help. Her soul proclaims that all music that plays in her mind stops playing all the chords. She urges and roars that she cannot take the same melody day and night anymore, tormenting her sanity. While her soul cries, her body, which should externalize her appeal, remains passive and lifeless. 

But Sabrina comes back. She has the wooden box in her arms and Zelda's body and soul cry with a glimpse of freedom. 

Tears externalized in the middle of a smile attracting the attention of all women in the room. But no one says anything, the Spellmans save their strength just waiting for what the dark-haired woman will do. 

“ _Make the ballerina stop spinning and take care of her_ ,” Lilith's voice sounds through the walls of Mary's senses, “ _I will hold on to all your pain while you do this, but I take control in the morning_.” 

And in the blink of an eye, Mary's body is whole again. From inside to outside. Your mind is alone and in complete control of herself. 

At that moment she feels the same freedom that she lived while Barbra Streisand's voice, singing the tracks from her favorite album, sounded in her car in the middle of the road, and she wanted to cry because she felt so full of joy. 

But her eyes stopped on the red-haired woman in front of her, and as if removing a bandage, Mary pulled the ballerina out of the music box and broke it on the floor. 

In Zelda's mind, the music stopped and she never felt so weak. 

The pain of having her body violated, in mind and flesh, seeping through her veins was too strong and her feet couldn't take it, giving up as an anguished cry escaped her throat. But Mary is quick and manages to hold her around the waist and cradle her head while a painful and sick cry weeps from her lips. 

Hilda cries silently and takes Sabrina away, giving her the least amount of privacy her sister would have kept at the moment if she was able to plead. Her first impulse was to thank and then send _Lilith_ away so that she could calmly take care of Zelda. 

After all, family is something that Zelda has always prioritized, regardless of the moment or the crisis they were going through, but the redhead's nails were stuck in the brunette's back in such an unstable and disturbing way, as if she would do anything not to lose that support, that Hilda decided to respect that, whatever it was. 

With all her sensations coming back to her consciousness, Zelda tasted the bitterness of her marriage on her tongue, the agonizing pain between her legs and the arms of the woman in front of her holding her as if she were going to break. 

Perhaps, if the owner of the dark hair was not here, she would have already broken. 

Everything was hurting. Until the redhead pulled her head away from the shoulder that she collided and searched her face, finding the beautiful and precious blue irises, so clear and full of affection that they made her eyes burn with tears again. 

Slowly, step by step, Mary led Zelda to her room. Her body hurts so much and she just wants to tear the skin off, but she doesn't, instead, follows the brunette with her eyes, curious, while the rest of the overflowing tears dry on her cheek. 

Mary goes to the toilet and starts to fill the bathtub. There, Zelda loses her breath. 

Zelda was never a shy person, neither in her personality nor in her body, having more lovers than she could count on her fingers in the first half of her first century of life. But there, her body betrayed her, shrinking. She felt what Faustus did to her, all the pain and all the hostility that he treated her, just because he could do that. But she hadn't seen it. 

While she was being a victim of the Caligari Spell, everything that hurt and all the bestiality that her marriage was, was hidden in her clothes and her eyes, fascinated by the magic, never sought the results of that. 

But the owner of the blue eyes arrived quietly and stroked her scalp carefully and lovingly, and so the Spellman found herself following the woman towards the bathtub, which was already full. Now sitting on the closet toilet, Zelda watched the brunette move between them, adding a dry towel and a nightgown to the side of the bath. 

When the owner of the black locks dragged the zipper of the flowered dress down, Zelda's body shrank again. Then Mary stopped, kissed the redhead's forehead and rested her hands on her shoulders, waiting when the other one would be ready. 

She was prepared to wait for minutes, hours, days and years, giving Zelda as much time as needed, but eventually, the red-haired witch is minimally comfortable and, with help, removes her dress. Huge purple marks marked the pale skin beneath her torso and between her legs, there, again, Mary wanted to cry. But she feels that it wouldn't be good for the one in front of her or herself, so she doesn't. 

Instead, the dark-haired woman kneels beside Zelda and bathes her body gently while whispering. It is a sweet and calm melody, without lyrics, but that instigated the softness of her touches, all too worried to not hurt the witch in front of her even more. 

So far, no words had been exchanged between them, just looks filled with empathy and honesty bathed in trust. The greens, laden with pain, found peace in the calm and ashamed blues. 

Zelda's mind played with this, instigating a wave of doubt in it. 

_If she has seen me naked so many times, why is she still ashamed when I catch her looking at my body? Was she embarrassed before? How does she see me now? Stained? Corrupted? Dirty?_

But her memory was too confused, too painful, too distracted and too fragile. Then, as they came, her doubts were vanished, even without answers at the moment the dark-haired woman's lips lovingly touch her forehead. There, Zelda declines her body more in the bathtub and feels that, truly, everything can be fine. 

As the sponge is rubbed in her arms, Zelda’s memory started a dangerous journey. 

Vulnerability is something Zelda doesn't like to witness. Centuries ago she created a method of dealing with her feelings. Whenever she believed she was being consumed by emotions, good or bad ones, the redhead imagined herself, holding her feelings and placing them in an imaginary box. After that, her image took the emotions, trapped, to a wooden cupboard, and locked them there. 

The red-haired witch always knew that this was not a healthy way to deal with herself, but that was not considerable enough impediment to prevent her from continuing to do the same. However, today her emotions had destroyed the closet, and all she felt was uncertainty and insecurity as she cried. 

"Can you leave me alone?", Her speech sounds broken, in a shaky voice that stops Mary from bathing her immediately. 

"Do you want me to go home?" 

Without looking up, Zelda's last vestige of vulnerability vanishes through her fingers when, with her head down, she shakes her head negatively and watches as the dark-haired woman gets up and leaves the bathroom. 

A couple of hours later, the water was cold, and Zelda was forced to get up. Something tells her that she should eat because her legs are wobbly when she is straight, but her stomach hurts with the idea of trying to swallow something, and so she heads towards the bed, finding the dark-haired woman sitting on her bed. 

“Do you want to change?”, The redhead's voice sounds harsh, thanks to the anguished screams she had let out before, while referring to the tight dress that the other wears inside the blanket. 

"No, I just want to take care of you, all right?", And Zelda begs to Hell and Heaven that this question was rhetorical, because she has no answer for that, offering instead a smile and leaning on the shoulder of the one that, from that moment until the next morning, will watch over her sleep. 

Zelda wakes up six times during that night with nightmares. Always the same nightmare. Faustus hurting her, morally, emotionally and physically. But whenever her eyes open, she finds the dark-haired woman at her side, saying that everything is fine, that it was all a nightmare and that nothing she sees in her dreams will be real again. 

Her face is streaked with dry tears, and she does not remember a single moment in her life that she cried that much, taking away when she learned of her brother's death. When Edward's plane crashed, Zelda could swear that she felt her heart stopping with her brother's, and even before receiving the news, she was already locked in her room crying. 

In the morning, Zelda woke up. Before she had time to move her muscles, she felt a subtle touch in her hair, and due to the almost zero pressure, Zelda knew she was still there. She felt her stroking her hair while whispering a song, which by the chords, the redhead noticed to be the same she heard in the bathtub. 

And in that moment, even Lilith felt it. 

The Demon Mother was not on Earth during the Flood but imagined that it was a similar happiness to Zelda that Noah felt when he saw dry land, after being surrounded by water for so long. Mary's mind and body simply vibrated in harmony as she held the witch in her arms, and the red-haired lady smiled as she witnessed it. 

It was a sweet and pure song, directed without remorse or gratitude, just the desire to be and stay there. 

And as if her mind found a missing puzzle piece, the couple's face that the first witch saw during the Black Death was painted in her memory. 

She saw in both women the same thing she saw in that couple. 

A sweet love, without remorse, strings, guilt or gratitude, now bathed in a harmonious song that, even without words, not only Lilith, but, Zelda, was mesmerized by the softness of the woman beside him. Her movements were restrained, caressing the redhead's pale skin with affection and tenderness. 

Looking at the real ones, Zelda imagined that she had imagined the blue orbs wrong while she was bewitched. Her eyes were even more blue and even lighter, proving that, if it weren't for that one, this would be the blue that the False God chose for the most beautiful sky in history. The color exuded a softness that Zelda believed had not been seen before, and the voice that accompanied it was contained, murmuring pleasant and calm sounds. 

Last night and the current early morning are significant changes for Zelda, compared to all the other times she met the dark-haired woman, both in public and alone. 

But it was a good change. It was a change that made her want to smile. And so she continued to smile. 

Just as she did not cry, the redhead did not smile easily either. Her last moments of pure happiness were during Sabrina's childhood, where blond hair bounced on her small back while the girl jumped in to her aunt's lap. But there, with that woman, that was all Zelda felt like. 

She had smiled a few times with this same woman in the past, while sharing a lunch, reading a good book, or even after an orgasm, but not so much, and it confused her, but it also calmed her down, making it even more so. disconnected. 

Fake smiles plastered her face around Backwood. Before and after being bewitched, and just the memory made her eyes burn with tears again. 

She didn't want to think about pain now, she didn't want to think about the unhappiness her life has become in the past few months, but still, she can't help it. 

Lying down, now facing each other, the redhead saw the dark-haired woman's eyes also bathe in tears. 

"I have to go. I'm sorry... but you will be fine... ”, the tears slid from her blue seas without a brake down her cheeks, her nose started to turn red and she was pinning her lower lip between her teeth, trying futilely to stop the crying in front of the witch. 

"Yes, I will...", the redhead said, not quite sure, but trusting herself and in the one who spoke to her while, with a finger, spread the tears on the dark-haired woman's face. 

Zelda thought about thanking her, for her patience, for her care and for staying even with who she was. The teacher's name was fixed on her lips, after all she said it for months when she got calls from her and when she moaned on in luxurious nights, but there she thought for a few seconds and spoke a simple sentence. 

"Thank you... Lilith!", ending the thanks Zelda smiled and lowered her head, not noticing the eyes of the human in front of her darkening and lightening, a clear sign of the unexpected exchange between those who inhabited the controls that body. 

Now the first witch in the story was unexpectedly leading the woman's body, while Mary Wardwell's mind sat on the floor with her face between her knees crying and torturing herself with the memory of Zelda's voice thanking Lilith. 

_I don't know why I thought... I would never be enough!_ It was the only thought that, in pieces, hammered her conscience, forcing even more tears to slide down her face. 

Lilith said nothing and, saving even more suffering from the human, she directed the teacher's body towards the exit of the Spellmans' Mansion and left without saying goodbye to anyone. 

The next day, a basket of baked goods materialized at Mary's door, signed by Hilda with a single sentence: “Thank you for saving my sister and, consequently, my family. I will be forever grateful. ” 

This was the only one of the Spellmans' physical memories that Lilith kept, not for her, because the piece of paper could not be more insignificant for her, but for Mary because the human deserved that note. 

After that the teacher's mind did not ask to visit Zelda anymore, justifying that she made a promise and that she would keep her word to the entity. Lilith didn't argue, and how could she when her goal was so close to her? 

Thus, in the coming nights, Zelda's nightmares are occasionally replaced by pleasant dreams. The woman begins to see the figure of Mary Wardwell and her sweet eyes in her dreams. Never the dark blue eyes, thanks to the dilated pupils of their meetings, but the affectionate blues that shone tenderly on the day the woman veiled her body and her dream before saying goodbye, but there was only one difference. 

In her dreams, she was never leaving. She just stayed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone wanna risk a guess for the music that Mary whispers to Zelda? It may or may not be a Barbra Streisand song that may or may not name this fanfiction... But I'll totally explain it better in the next chapters! 
> 
> hahaha Thanks for reading, comments and... everything! Really, thank you very much! 
> 
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith was gone.
> 
> Mary recognized this when she woke up and felt that her conscience was no longer a cornered point in her mind. The teacher spent hours crying, naked in her bed, just mesmerized by the movement of her hand, opening, and closing, following her will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even express how drastically heartbroken I was with the announcement of CAOS Season 4 being the last one. I really believed that, with more meaningful time, directors and producers would work to give Mary and Lilith a good and fair ending (the characters that, in my opinion, were most overlooked and neglected).
> 
> But anyway, this fanfiction will continue to be posted, and thank you for reading it!

When Lilith's mind puzzle was formed in her head, she notices that the Dark Lord was going to give Hell’s crown to Sabrina Spellman and at that moment her heart was broke. 

She had fought so much for that. Used every strength she had, even creating more for herself, doing everything to be the perfect ruler, and now her prize was going to scape between her fingers just like sand.

Stolas had warned her, but she chose to believe in the one who saved her thousands of years ago. And now she regrets it. 

Mary Wardwell always believed that revenge was not something efficient, after all, her entire Family raised her as catholic and, according to the bible, this feeling belonged only to God. However, her conscience, when witnessed the hate being cast by Lilith inside the red walls of her feelings, she thought again. 

Lilith searched for hours among Mary’s heels for the tallest and sharpest one and, when she did, she followed straight to the nearest church in town. 

When she arrived at the place, the green entity simply guided the teacher's body to the information center of the Chapple and found exactly what she was looking for. 

“My sister will get married within a few days and I wish I could give her these heels blessed with holy water. Would you do this for me, father?”, Mary’s body said Lilith's words calmly the priest, even with all the chaos her interior was living. 

‘Of course, my daughter.” and there, in front of her, the heels were sunk at a whole in catholic and miraculous water. 

The oldest witch in history just thanked the religious man and took the heels to the teacher’s cottage. She imagined herself in Mary Wardwell's thoughts, being called weak for hiding her form from the burns that the waters of the False-God would do on her greenish skin, however, while her next plans passed through her thoughts, she didn't mind looking weak to Mary Wardwell. 

But, arriving at the human’s house, she knew exactly what the teacher thought because her conscience spoke to her. 

_"Do you want me to sleep?"_ , her voice was weak and frightened, fearing the unknown, and, at that moment, Lilith wanted to spare her of everything she could, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to. 

_“Quite the opposite, see... I need you awake to make sure you don't take control of your body.”_ , she tried to speak as softly as possible while seeking understanding in the face of Mary's conscience, when she saw a hint of hesitation, she spoke again, _“Mary, listen, I need you to master yourself and not take control of the body. You need to trust me because we can both die and this wouldn't be the worst part! Do you understand?"_

For the first time, Lilith had asked the permission and the trust of the other one, even though believing she would never give it to her, but still, she received an affirmative nod. 

And so, the entity used Mary Wardwell's body to invoke and seduce the Devil. When he sat on her sofa, she danced in front of the fire, on top of the pentagram drawn on the carpet, whispering that she missed the dark being and saying she was weak for him while undressing, minus the dark heels. 

Lilith guided Mary's naked body to the back of the sofa and kissed the back of Lucifer's neck and before any movement could stop her, the Mother of Demons, with unbelievable speed and coldness, took off one of her heels and stuck in one of the unclosed scars of the back of the King of Hell. While he groaned in pain, she took off the other and performed the same act. 

The more he tried to free himself, the more she stuck the pointed shoe in the back of whom once were her lord, leaving him even weaker. She could see the strength of holy water tearing the Fallen Angel from inside out while her vision was blurred and, involuntary and inevitably, a tear from Mary Wardwell's conscience - which, since the moment when she felt her body naked, cried and tried to hide in the red walls of her senses – fell down her face. 

When burns painted Lucifer's veins from the inside out, Lilith guided Mary to grab and pull his head back. 

"This is for my crown!", Was what Lilith's voice, now for the first time trembling, screamed while invoking the sharpest knife in Mary's kitchen to her hand, and tearing his throat. 

She cried and cut until all the skin and hair were loose and she makes sure to separate the head from the rest of the body, bending and almost breaking the teacher's knife while hitting it against the bone. 

Mary's conscience was in shock. Without speaking or showing any reaction, just watching, with patches of dry tears below the blue eyes, the entity in front of her crying and murmuring her victory against the most wicked being in history, while chewing and swallowed parts of him. 

At that moment, the walls of Hell trembled, showing to everyone that their King had been defeated, and Lilith couldn't wait to show them exactly by who. 

Lilith, the first woman in history, got what she wanted, the Throne of Hell and thus, fulfilling her promise, left free Mary Wardwell's body. She chose to do so after putting the human to sleep, not believing that she would survive the ritual awake. 

When, for the first time, she paid attention to the human's body, naked and full of bluish scars - a clear and visible sign to all non-lay people that that body had received an unsolicited entity - lying in her bed, the Queen of Hell felt remorse. 

Not for what she did, but for whom she did it. 

Lilith had destroyed the unconscious woman's life in a way that could not be repaired. 

Humans were vain, not as narcissistic as entities, but they were still extremely concerned with their aesthetics and the idea of living in pairs. 

_When would Mary have the courage to let another mortal touch the marks on her chest, or arms, or legs? Or to even see them?_

For a moment, the stomach of the Mother of the Demons wrapped in remorse with her own thought, and, as an answer to herself, she only covered the body of the human in front of her with a sheet. 

In the living room, the green-skinned creature teleported her ex-lover's body to Hell, along with all the dirt his death caused on the human's carpet and sofa. In the kitchen, the Queen of the Dead took an unused glass pot and bewitched it with herbs, whose pure purpose was to calm the teacher's heart when she woke up. 

A part of her mind was screaming for her to remove the teacher's memories, but, in her chest, the entity felt that the blank mind would look for answers and so, what at first would sound reassuring would turn into an even bigger nightmare. She could always create false memories, but it sounded wrong to want to mask everything that happened with ordinary days if the human's mind would still scream in pain in delayed response to her possession. 

Part of her was surprised by all the pain that the lower being received and still survived. Among all the bodies she possessed, Mary Wardwell - even sweet and fragile - proved to be extremely strong, being the only one to survive. And, as if in a click, the mind of the current Queen of Hell found out why. 

She is a woman. And women are strong. 

Lilith was gone. 

Mary recognized this when she woke up and felt that her conscience was no longer a cornered point in her mind. The teacher spent hours crying, naked in her bed, just mesmerized by the movement of her hand, opening, and closing, following her will. 

As soon as she felt strong enough, she hurriedly put on a tunic and ran towards the living room. There she gathered and threw everything that reminded her of the satanic entity into the fireplace. 

Books, dresses, skirts, jewelry, and an unknown glass jar, everything burned except for a familiar pair of dark heels. 

Perhaps that was a divine memory. A memory that would prevent her from declaring herself insane for the first asylum she encountered or painting a reality where all the abuse suffered by her body was a dream. 

But it wasn’t. 

And she saw it at the moment her stomach churned and turned, forcing her to run as fast as she could to the bathroom and kneel in front of the toilet, putting out a dark mucus. 

It was sticky and extremely oily. Its taste was worse than ordinary gastric juice and there, in her bathroom, she cried even harder than she had before. 

Mary thought about seeking help from religious leaders. She arrived early in front of the Greendale Church closest to her home in search of a priest but left at the last second. He would ask her about her fictional sister's wedding, and Mary didn’t believe she could handle those bloody memories jumping into her memory. The same happened with rabbis, pastors, and representatives of other spiritual aspects, she always left before really asking for guidance. 

Too embarrassed to beg someone for help, she started sleeping doped. She paid triple on medicine, just to buy it without a prescription, and finished ten pills in less than five days. Her body ached in a way she never thought possible. The pain of having her body violated in flesh, seeping through her veins at being released, was almost worse than her arrest. But the worst was what happened in her mind. 

Think was something that hurt, but she couldn't stop. All conclusions she reached for the justification that this all happened to her generated even more pain, precisely because her responses moved through distrust towards her religion or towards the love of God. 

She was always Catholic. Believing in all the teachings of the Roman church was something that did not happen, but, for convenience, she was Catholic. 

God loved and protected those who believed in Him, so _why had He left her helpless?_ She was not perfect, but all she heard for years was that God was perfect and not his followers, so _why had He forgotten her?_

Her first conclusion was that this being did not exist. But the unwanted memory of the Devil crying and squirming on her couch was present, proving her wrong, after all, if her eyes had seen the Fallen Angel, someone must have knocked him out of heaven. 

Her second conclusion was personal spiritual weakness and was what temporarily made sense. She never believed in everything imposed by the attended church, so, consequently, He was punishing her. 

But until when? 

And, as if the right thought crossed her mind, the answer escaped her lips in a whisper. 

"Until I am purified." 

And so it was done. 

She prayed for hours every single day in months, on waking up and before going to sleep. Not to be perfect, but to erase the substantial stain on her soul, the one that had justified all that damage. 

Mary Wardwell said all the prayers she knew and researched new ones, but none of that was effective. 

Her nightmares have not diminished, her anguish has not subsided, her dark, slimy vomit in the morning has not ended. 

And so, when pessimism won, after another morning puking, she cried sitting on the floor next to the toilet. She cried until her throat was hurt and until she choked on her own sob, all to discover that she was even more lost than she imagined. 

And, at that moment, she cried out for help. 

Any help and any answer, from any human, any god, or both. She asked so hard that she felt dizzy and, while trying to rest her head on the palm of her left hand, she ended up feeling an old parchment in it. With the shock of not remembering how she grabbed it, she dropped it, bounced twice on the tile before stopping and, alone, opening. 

> _Self-imposed punishment for a crime you didn't commit? You are better than that, human._

And so, knowing exactly who answered her agonized plea, Mary wept even more for finding her third and final conclusion. 

She had been possessed by an entity, which now carried the only Crown of Hell, and why it happened to her, was something that would continue to torment her, until she simply stopped looking for her justification. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for all this delay in updating, it was a chaotic month for me and all my family but everything is fine now. So... this was an intense chapter, right? I know it seems that this unhappiness will not end but believe me, I want everyone happy just like you all, but for that, I need this...  
> Thanks for reading, comments and... everything! Really, thank you very much!  
> next chapter will be posted midweek or next Sunday 
> 
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Swallow your ego, Zelds, and go after the answers you deserve."

Pain and suffering were also part of Zelda Spellman's routine.

In the moment that the mesmerizing melody ceased to be a constant, a conclusion became her greatest mantra. 

_I need to stay away from him._

And so, Zelda never returned to the Academy of the Hidden Arts. The redhead spent every day in the mortuary, moving between rooms hoping to distract her mind. Hilda reduced her working hours to stay home with her sister, imagining that after this trauma, Zelda Spellman's emotional walls had finally fallen. But she was wrong, because, far from it, her emotions were even more impenetrable. And so, after exactly two days, Hilda, even worried, went back to work with Dr. Cee.

The Spellmans older sister received calls. Concluding that they were from coworkers at the Academy, perhaps too embarrassed for having seen her agony day after day and knowing that they did nothing, the redhead did not answer any of them.

While the spell possessed and caged the sanity of her mind, Zelda was forced by her body to do many things. One was abstinence from smoking.

Two days after her Dark Baptism, hundreds of years ago, was when she first came into contact with smoking. The redhead had survived without any sequelae or trauma after being subjected to Harrowing, so she was thrown a party and, her curious heart, could not simply say no to the blue pipe offered to her. There, with the almost sweet taste of Virginia's tobacco mixed with the burning of expensive wine in her throat, she was sure that sensation would be part of her life for a long time.

Even before completing her first hundred years, the growing herb in Bulgaria was no longer satisfactory as before and the pipe was overheated, even when it was levitated to her mouth. Her first attempt was Latakia, after all, it was the favorite of her current lover and she imagined it would bring them closer. However, the herb, whose main use was its healing power, ended up being too dry by her standards, as it was the late relationship. 

The redhead's last pipe smoking was Perique. Its taste was strong and unique, but the rarity of it made Zelda taste the herb only on unusual occasions.   
Eventually, life took her to Burley tobacco. Extremely strong, with low sugar and high nicotine, it quickly became her favorite. Finding a solution to this problem, which for almost fifty years became a headache, was the choice of silk.

She already felt too weird using the pipe, which, in addition to the unpleasant heat of the object, always distracted the redhead from the sheer sensation of smoking and ended up becoming a nuisance for its coarse appearance, so getting rid of the pipe was easy.

The witch never tried flavored silks or sweet flavors, after all, she always knew that she smoked because of the bitter taste in her throat and didn't want to throw away the best sensation. The sensation was always her priority, and so the tobacco leaf found its place among the witch's belongings.

However, her nails were too precious to be spent on the pressed tobacco, so Zelda began to encase Burley using magic. As the years went by, boredom was again present, and performing everything through spells became too monotonous. So, talking civilly for the first time with a mortal human, Zelda bought an automatic device to do it for her. Eventually, the device was bewitched to become more agile, however, it was still her favorite form of smoking.

Until Faustus appears.

On their third date, the priest asked Zelda to avoid smoking, given his backward idea that it was not a female practice. She smiled and nodded, preferring to lessen the frequency around the man rather than initiate a useless discussion. But, while she was bewitched, she regretted not having done exactly that.

Zelda suffered abstinence more than she imagined, after all, more than four hundred years of smoking could not be ignored. Fever, pain in the eyes, shortness of breath, she suffered everything alone and cornered by the sparkling and glorious glow of her body mesmerized by nonexistent happiness.

Now, free to control her body and her will, what were ten cigarettes a day has become more than fifty.

One cigarette in the morning upon waking from a nightmare, another to fruitlessly try to soothe the pain in the body that did not abandon her, one more to accompany the alcohol, which was now her faithful companion when the memories became more than cruel.

And so her life went on for almost an entire year until a reddish letter was delivered to the Spellmans' mansion. In the language of witches there were dualities, however, when it came to colors, everything followed the same path and, checking the sender, she was sure that no one from the academy could use this specific meaning in vain.

_Red is mourning._

After receiving the crimson paper from the hands of her nephew, the spelling known on the envelope made the heart of the former singing teacher of the Satanic Choir miss a beat. As she opened the envelope, Zelda saw that the handwriting really was Prudence Blackwood's and that she had become, in some places, sloppy as never before, and there, the Spellmans matriarch was afraid of what information she had received from her husband's firstborn.

But, reading the contents of the letter, a surprised and relieved sigh escaped her lips.

Faustus was dead.

Academy students, searching for him in his office, found him with a common rope next to a note that repudiated an _unknown goddess_ with the words “I will never serve a woman”, however, by Prudence's words, the walls of the room in question were covered with five words written in a blazing fire that obviously served as an answer to him.

"I don't want you either."

When the girl's words began to sound melancholy, showing mourning and suffering for the loss of the man, Zelda interrupted her reading and helped herself to two doses of the most expensive whiskey in the Spellmans' cellar.

Faustus was dead. And Zelda had no good feeling for the man who hurt her so much.

That night, before going to sleep, Zelda thought about what to do.

Should she thank the unknown goddess? It was the question that hammered her mind, but looking at the crimson falls in her closet, the redhead knew that her priority was other and, following her most primitive instincts, burned all the reddish clothes she had in the fireplace in the Spellmans' living room. After all, _red is in mourning_ and Zelda Spellman refused to be in mourning.

However, for the next few months from that day, what were fifty cigarettes a day became more than eighty, while unanswered questions monopolized her mind.   
But everything started to find its axis when a purple letter with her name in bold letters was present in the midst of newspapers and weekly correspondence, without any sender.

The purple color meant just one thing for any and all witches enlightened with the least of History of Witchcraft, and that made Zelda confused.

_A request._

“Hilda?”

“Yes, love?” the youngest of the sisters' soft and sweet voice sounded distracted as she prepared breakfast.

"Why does the violet letter have no return address?"

“What violet lett...”, but the question died in her tongue when her eyes found the crimson paper in the hand of her older sister and, remembering what she took from the delivery box in front of the house, she replied apprehensively: “I didn't saw any violet letter. ”

So Hilda dropped the boiling water on the stove and sat in front of her sister, failing to hide her curiosity, while the redhead opened the envelope. Zelda runs her green eyes over the words once, twice, three, four times, as if she wants to prove to herself that it was really real, but when she goes to check for the fifth, Hilda's voice sounds.   
"What it says, Zelds?"

"Lilith ...", the name sounded heavy in her tongue and the memories in her mind, mixed with the information in the letter, but she continued, "She is the new Queen of Hell, unique and sovereign."

A frightened and surprised sigh escaped the lips of the youngest, but before she organized her words into a meaningful sentence, her sister's voice, always tense and full of security, sounded small and confused:

"And ... she wants me to be her Priestess... High Priestess!"

As the last piece of a puzzle, the redhead's mind remembered Prudence's letter months ago.

_Faustus committed suicide in order not to serve Lilith._

But it was all too much to process. First, all of her religiosity had been directed and reduced to Satan's lies, then her marriage and widowhood in the midst of this religious nightmare, and now, her centuries-old fervor and devotion to the Fallen Angel would have to be quickly replaced by... Lilith?

The one who lied about her identity in favor of the Devil to guide her niece through dark ways? The one who monopolized her thoughts since the first time she joined their lips? The one who took care of her and took care of her body in its greatest state of fragility?

And before she knew it, another cigarette materialized, already lit, in her hand as thick tears streamed down her cheeks. But Hilda was done with that.

Done with watching her sister's pain for fear of being pushed away. Done with watching all the growing sadness in the redhead's heart and do nothing. Done with not knowing how to help. Thus, based on her own emotions, the smallest of the sisters took the cigarette from Zelda's hand, threw it on the floor, and held the redhead in her arms.

There, in Hilda's arms, Zelda felt as if the closet that held her feelings was so crowded that it exploded, releasing and shedding all the unshed tears in her sister's light green sweater.

"I know you smoke to control your anxiety, but ..."

"No ...", Zelda's small voice hindered her sister's speech as her arms pressed the smaller body against hers and her face hid, supported by her shoulder, frightened by the explicit vulnerability in herself, "I smoke because I can smoke and ... I like being able to smoke, and being able to prove to me that, now, I can smoke. ”

And so Zelda tells Hilda everything that happened.

From the meetings with Mary, or rather _Lilith_ , both soft and erotic, to the nights of pure anguish she was forced to share with her husband. She also talks about the break between whatever happened between her and the current Queen of Hell and how confused she felt when she thought about it.

“Why did she take care of me? Why did she cry for me? Why did she walk away from me? ” questions leaked out of her lips without a break, until Hilda's soft voice sounds.

“Talk to her...”

"How?" the question was not asked by Zelda thanks to her hearing-impaired by having her ear resting on her sister's body, but by her incredulity when hearing such a suggestion.

"You owe her an answer about the job, and she owes you an answer about her behavior."

"But ... Why doesn't she speak to me?" before any coherent defensive thinking emerged, Zelda's walls were already rising again, however, Hilda would not let that happen.

"Swallow your ego, Zelds, and go after the answers you deserve."

And so, after thinking hard, before going to sleep, the most faithful and religious red-haired witch in Greendale, prays for Lilith. She cries out loudly and clearly waiting to be heard and asks to find her.

When the green eyes spilled, without noticing, dense tears in the middle of the plea to be heard, her fingers tingled. Opening her eyes, the redhead found five coins of pure flaming iron and calmly whispered a thank you, for if the legends were correct, these were her round-trip tickets to the Mansion of the Dead and, departing from there, to Hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now this is really starting!! this is a really important move for Zelda, because she deserves some answers..... but the answers that she will get, are the ones that she expects?  
> Thanks for reading! Comments are extremely welcome and each one really makes my day!
> 
> xoxo,  
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more the redhead thought about the day that she was taken care of by the owner of the dark curls, the more pain she felt. It was palpable and different from her past pains, but it still tore her throat and tormented her mind.

Zelda knew that Lilith had invited her into her kingdom, and that, consequently, she agreed with the visit. Zelda knew that she was welcome but how she would get in Hell was a question that bothered the redhead for weeks. Crying for help to the Queen of Hell again sounded stupid, after all, why would the Mother of Demons trust Zelda to represent her as her Priestess if she couldn’t resolve a single issue on her own?

Perhaps the red-haired witch was too stubborn, or too proud, but her core refused and forced her mind to work. A part of her whispered that her mind was using research as a distraction for her feelings, so real and throbbing every night with memories of the thin arms holding her so tightly through the night.

Hilda helped her sister as she could, first bringing soothing teas to her when her head was too sore and begged for a pause by shuffling the words in the texts. Then, the youngest of the Spellmans siblings helped by accompanying the redhead to the Academy of Occult Arts whenever necessary, because unfortunately the family books and Ambrose’s researches were not effective for the redhead purpose.

Her nephew found only one story among the writings about a woman named Tabita who died and, after hours, with the help of her nurse crying out to the False God for her vitality, returned to the world of the living, being the only woman to accomplish such thing, according to all Zelda research.

Nobody at the Academy dared to ask questions about her disappearance, or about the lack of red in her robes. However, when rumors started about when the next profane mass would take place to acclaim the Fallen Angel, her response was just a single word. "Never."

Without waiting or justifying the disgust expressed in her voice when it came to her previous object of faith, she strode to the library, too eager to continue her research and answer a simple question.

_How to get to the Mansion of the Dead being alive?_

She remembers centuries ago, while still young, hearing Edward read the Catholic Bible to her hidden for a few nights. Both curious teenagers with rebels souls, they read page by page, letting go of the heavy False God's book and burn it in the fireplace.

They always had tastes in common, and when a widow's son was cited as the first to visit the Mansion of the Dead, everything else disappeared for both of them.  
The restricted place, located at the exact point between Heaven and Hell and destined only for those whose lungs no longer held air, was their fantasy object for years. _How long souls stay there? How can we visit? How would it be?_

Over time and research, one of the top three questions was answered. The souls stayed there during the time of a full moon, maybe less, purifying themselves of earthly activities to find the boatman and thus be guided by the waters of their memories and lost future, towards their destination.

But now, with many more years than the last time, she just looked for some trace related to this mysterious place among the olds and almost dusted books of the highest and most forgotten bookshelf in the Academy's library, using them as her last salvation to find the other two answers.

  
While the red-haired witch's glasses were working, making the ancient writing legible, Mary Wardwell's glasses were resting in the pocket of the battered gardener, while the dark-haired woman worked tirelessly in her garden.

Since being a child, the human always liked plants. During her childhood, she had flower pots while her mother tended the home garden. During her teenage years, her time was spent only with a rose bush, since her priority was to take care of those in need. However, when her parents died and loneliness starts to attack, she felt the soft petals giving her comfort and affection, made her collection grow.

When Adam lived with her, the garden was exuberant. Always well cared and alive, and the two joked that he could only be the reincarnation of _the first man_ as an explanation for his agricultural talent, after all, nothing would die if it was cared for by him. But her fiance was gone and so she gave up on the big garden.

Before her possession, Mary had flower beds under the windows full of rockroses. There were no color standards. It was all mixed up and that was how she liked it. Always colorful and cheerful, and the dark-haired woman's happiness only doubled when butterflies joined the windows.

But Lilith appeared. And butterflies were no longer a constant in that house.

Her flowers fought bravely, but eventually, they joined the butterflies and stopped finding that place safe, dying even before the second month of possession.

And now the teacher, who asked for time away from her students, cried while she was removing the dead roots from the window. She missed the joy of the colors of the plants at the base of her window and especially the butterflies, which always danced happily around her room before that whole nightmare started.

But, even with the unfortunate memories shining in her mind, the beautiful greenhouse in the Spellmans' house, and the sweet taste that the redhead's kiss had made space between the miserable memories, Mary took a deep breath and, wiping away the tears, uttered a single murmur.

“Maybe I should plant new ones.”

After all, since the needed kiss would no longer be a constant, she would be satisfied with just the butterflies.   


  
Almost a month later, when Mary's flowers started to bloom again, was the moment that Zelda found what she was looking for.

An ancient and little-known spell that removed the spirit from its body and transmuted it to the world of the dead for five entire moons, even though there is no news of any mortal who had endured there.

 _Eleazar's Spell_ was the name engraved on the old parchment, and for a split second, Zelda's eyes rolled in dismay.

For a minute, she almost forgot how patriarchy worked, but with the Hebrew name of the risen from the dead by the FalseGod’s son - Lazaro - written in bold letters, naming the spell on the ancient papyrus, she remembered.

Thus, a childish revolt was present in her thoughts, and angrily escaped her lips.

"Tabita was resurrected first."

But the red-haired witch didn't have time to think about it, after all, she had found what she needed so much and so her preparations started.

Dark candles scattered around the room, the studied spell decorated and the witch's body lying on her bed. Apparently, the Mansion of the Dead did not accept living bodies, so the only way to complete its objective was to take only your soul and mind there. Zelda would be gone for two or three moons, she couldn't be sure how earthly time worked while she was away, but if her body didn't tolerate the spiritual transmutation between worlds, Hilda would be her guide back home and, even frustrated to return without the answers she wanted, she would be fine.

Although Zelda was not the best with charms, like her late brother, she never had problems with the sustaining triad for a well-performed spell - a numb mind, induced sleep, and a clear claim. But that night her mind played a trick on her, and the clear claim was replaced by more and more doubts.

_Why did she take care of me? Why did she cry for me? Why does she want me as her representative? Why did she accept a visit from me? Why did she walk away from me?_

Zelda Spellman prided by never having suffered for love. She has cried for boyfriends the first century of her life, being away from lovers has always hurt her, but nothing was compared to the agony and bitterness her chest found whenever she remembered the blue eyes.

The more the redhead thought about the day that she was taken care of by the owner of the dark curls, the more pain she felt. It was palpable and different from her past pains, but it still tore her throat and tormented her mind.

Maybe she just wanted to be loved.

And she knew she could find love from others, but it wouldn't make sense if it weren't for the one who treated her so carefully when she needed it most.

So many meaningful dates, full of lunches and orgasms, but all she thought about was the day she was cared for. At random, one could compare her specific memory to obsession.

But the redhead also knew obsession, because it is what makes her smoke every day, and the soft sensation in her chest when she remembered of the other's fingers gliding gently against her skin during the most difficult bath of her life was nothing compared to it.

Having that feeling as a guide, Zelda closed her eyes, calmed down, and recited the spell, being swallowed by almost endless darkness.

She doesn't know how long she slept, but when she woke up her eyes were surprised by unknown dark walls. Unbelieving enough to doubt her own eyes, the redhead got up from the foreign pad and ran to the nearest window.

There the witch saw, through the window of what looked like a third floor, a dark beach and, anchored on the banks of the waters, a boat, and its boatman.   


  
Her eyes filled with tears as she descended the stairs and was watched by anonymous stares, but her pride was greater and she quickly dried them off and continued on her way towards the entrance of what had been her object of obsession for so many centuries.

While watching the weak faces of the souls around her, Zelda, for the first time in months, felt exuberant in comparison. Even with dark bags under her eyes and muscles tired from the sleepless months, she felt the huge difference between a living and a dead soul.

Hilda always said that she had not visited the Address of All Souls, and today Zelda was grateful that it was not a lie. In the past, when the redhead killed her sister out of anguish or caprice, she always knew that the blonde's only vision was pitch black, as well as what she witnessed before waking up at the Mansion of the Dead, and she could hardly imagine what it would be like for Hilda to have witnessed that vision.

Zelda could hear the desperate souls screaming and crying praises through the corridors. Children, adults, and the elderly forgetting the very purpose of that place in the midst of desperation to find themselves without vitality. All decorations in the walls were worn, fragile, and inert, even without being minimalist. The walls were full of torn pictures and their tables were full of broken objects, poor utensils that suffered the wrath of those who did not accept their own death.

If she had time, like the other souls, Zelda would wonder if Edward was also one of them. Or maybe she could be herself.

But there was no time, after all, something called her to the gray sand on the beach and Zelda continued there without pauses, being greeted by an inert look from her boatman. In silence, he extended his right hand, a gentleman gesture in the midst of all that chaos, and the witch, in the midst of the dark, dressed in a long robe, accepted.   
Sitting across from each other, their eyes met again. The green, alive and intense, being cut by the gray, dry, and extinguished.

The oldest of the Spellmans brothers swerved first, focusing on her knees, too uncomfortable with the unknown that that mystical being meant, until a hoarse and failing voice spoke, breaking the silence:

“The coins, Zelda Spellman.”

Without further ado, the redhead reached into her left pocket for two of the pure flaming iron coins she received from Lilith, preferring to leave a larger payment to be delivered on the return journey. After all, if her researches were right, the one in front of her did not make many returns accompanied.

When Zelda's fingers accidentally touched the boatman's palm as the coins passed from hand to hand, she saw his eyes change color. And, as if he noticed only now that he was accompanied by a tourist and not a resident of the Mansion of the Dead, he show the witch a simple smile and began to paddle.

Zelda looked at the stars all the time, refusing to observe the images that would be portrayed in the waves until she was awakened by the boatman's voice:

"Afraid of your past?", He had his back to the witch, and she thought to ask how he knew where her eyes were focused, however she guarded herself only to answer what was asked.

"Some memories are just too unhappy", the redhead tried to keep her voice steady and unwavering, however, her speech sounded tired and haunted.

"But isn't the memory of the good ones worth it?"

Taking the boatman's speech as encouragement, she fixed her eyes on the water just in time to see her childish self playing with Edward and Hilda. But the memory was quickly swallowed up by another one of herself, older, caressing and smiling at her guardian for centuries, Vinager Tom.

Several waves emerged, with her trips to France, Turkey, Brazil, Spain, reminding herself of her exploratory nature after she finished her studies at the Academy. Until another wave appeared and created the image of her and her sister opening the Spellman Mortuary, centuries ago, when it was the middle brother's turn to travel the world.

The moment Ambrose came to live with the two sisters and his first sincere hug in Zelda, the creation of Hilda's greenhouse and Sabrina's first steps and first words were the last good memories until Faustus's face appeared in the waters.

As if they knew the bitter nature of man, the waters were unsteady, and, for a few minutes, when painful memories flooded her mind, Zelda imagined that the boat carrying her would turn.

But blue eyes were present and everything was calm.

Vivid memories like the last night they spent together shone in the waters of the sea, now brighter than before, as if they were worried about merging with the eyes of that dark-haired woman with a loose smile.

"Enjoy your future ...", the boatman's voice was present once again, but Zelda couldn't answer even if she tried, too lost in the unknown images that monopolized the waves.

Her image smiled, happy and alive, as she was embraced by the long-haired figure, seconds before being kissed. The blue eyes were even more beautiful than she remembered, and the worry and pain they carried while their owner took care of Zelda's body were replaced by a genuinely pleasant feeling that could be easily named by the redhead if she wanted to do it.

But there, finding the adorable blue eyes amid her possible future, a sincere smile was painted on her lips and her soul was not concerned with nomenclatures, having as a guide the certainty that she was extremely close to getting the answers she so desperately desired. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are extremely welcome! This was one of the most fun chapters of the fanfic, memories are my weakness!! I would love to know what you guys think!
> 
> Next chapter coming soon!
> 
> Again, thank you very much!
> 
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you confuse me?", Zelda's voice sounded calm, surprising even herself, wen she looked directly at Lilith dark blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy international lesbian visibility day late to you girls! i just want to kiss you all on the forehead!

In the moment that Lilith stepped into hell, she felt the power consuming her veins. It was graceful, electrifying, and the happiness of finally being able to feel it almost suffocated her. Lucifer received this power, but he internalized it, with the clear purpose of showing the glory of himself in comparison to those around him. But the mother of demons didn't need that. 

She had an army of children who would do anything to defend her, so her overriding idea is to use the vitality that this power has brought her to improve the conditions in her home. 

The other infernal entities keep their distance from her, disapproving her attitudes when Hell is recreated to fulfill the whims of its new queen, but no look scares her, only frustrates her, and so she speaks to everyone, ending any and all inappropriate rumors. 

"I touched the holy water for the Creator of Everything and survived, I killed Beelzebub, and took my rightful place. I am Lilith, Mother of all Demons, First Woman, First Witch, and now the One and Absolute Queen of Hell, and everyone in this and other worlds owes me respect." 

Hell was meant to be a punishment for everyone, each soul with their own world reflecting their biggest pain and their greatest suffering for all eternity. But Lilith changed that, using her magical gift to build additions for herself and those worthy of happiness in her reign. 

Her demons were strong and robust, but living in Lucifer's shadows for millennia made them afraid, so she gave them a conscience, kindness, and courage, and looking at them, ready and perfect like she dreamed for hundreds of years, brought tears to Lilith's eyes. 

Since Lilith was the ruler who was most concerned with the underworld, Hell surprised her, making Lilith it's home as well. She felt it while starting a meeting with other entities, her skin, always greenish and mucous, now had fine reddish strokes, like veins. 

They didn't hurt, they just showed up, but still, succumbing to natural instincts, the Queen of Hell goes to her room and penetrates the marks, cutting her own skin to see what was that. Lilith had already seen so much, met so many souls, and created so much life, but when hot lava and sulfur ran down her body, the surprise was incalculable.

It was neither a disease nor a threat. It was an alliance. From Hell with her and her way of governing, appreciating what she had done. And so, Lilith allows herself to accept this gift until the end, until her skin becomes red, hot, and shiny, just like Hell's lava. 

Eventually, the works are carried out without the direct cooperation of Lilith, after all, without Lucifer, there was no unexpected conflict to suck everyone's energy while they try not to compromise the order of the underworld's structures. 

And by freeing herself from these additional activities, the which covered much of her free time, the Queen of Hell now found herself drowning in thoughts about who wore still alive. So she watches the Unholy Church and sends them a message. 

It is simple and clear. She is the Queen of Hell. 

The high priest does not believe in it and, in a gesture of clear desperation to please Lucifer — imagining that the magic writing was just a test to see if he was loyal —, ends his own life. But the Mother of Demons does not care enough to mourn the death of Faustus Blackwood, her only answer being given to the lifeless body declaring her soul unworthy to remain in facilities made for the warlocks. 

Thus, her children throw him into the men's personal hell, a world where his mind is forced by his own body to follow and worship Lilith. How ironic was that? 

The Queen of Hell would like to, but unfortunately, she has no time to watch him suffering, too absorbed again with others among those who are alive, more precisely a human with blue eyes and a broken mind. 

There were two voices in her mind dueling, one saying that it was wrong, that she couldn't spy on the dark-haired woman. But there was another one that insisted tirelessly that the entity needed to check it as if it knew something was wrong. And, hearing the second voice, she used much of her daily vitality to initiate a connection between the walls of Hell and the walls of Mary Wardwell's house. 

That was not her purpose, but eventually, when she was observing the human's soul lost in unknown bodily memories, Lilith found herself trapped watching the day-to-day life of the blue-eyed woman, fantasizing about being able to help her. 

As soon as she possessed Mary's body, the Mother of the Demons found the receipt for a theater movie in the human's black coat. Night of the Living Dead, a film categorized among humans as horror. With a few more months she found a box with film tapes, decorative cards, and animated posters of the same genre, proving that the body she possessed liked this type of fiction. 

But now, as she watched the dark-haired woman turn off the television, sick by the mere mention of a new horror movie, her stomach crumbled in agony. 

She strongly regretted all the bitterness that she made the human go through and each day everything got even worse just watching the dark-haired woman struggling to keep her sanity. Lilith knew it was too late and that the human's soul was hurt enough to not want to hear any regrets from her, and that hurt Lilith inside and out.

The entity did not believe that her wound was significant until her dark eyes diluted agony in tears every time she watches the emotionless face of the human teacher drinking hot milk with honey in hundreds of nights after a nightmare that even pills could not keep her from. But one night she heard what she feared the most amid broken whispers. 

"Why didn't you kill me?" 

The name of the entity did not need to be pronounced by Mary for her to know that the question was addressed to her. 

In weak legs, Mary's figure jumped up, as if she realized only now the words that escaped her lips, and her thin arms wiped away the frightened tears. 

At first, the Mother of Demons did not understand, but then, when she realized what Mary had been frightened off, her face wrinkled in two things that gods did not have, empathy and regret. 

Mary was terrified of dying and by the uncertainty of death. 

What she had known alive was so desperate and horrendous that, thinking about the afterlife, the teacher feared what would happen to her soul.

In the human's mind, God did not love her, so he would not allow her to join him in paradise, and so what was left was the kingdom of the one who presented her with the true meaning of suffering, Lilith. 

"I broke it. More than He broke me." 

Wen the words were poured from her lips, the entity felt her wound burning, empathy and sadness hurting the flesh that had become divine. 

Until that moment, all Lilith used was the strength that Hell provided her — for being its ruler — but she knew that now just that was not enough. Part of the mortal prayers to Lucifer splashed day and night on her, sucked in by the divine crown, but that was a mediocre vitality that, with this wound, would not keep her healthy for long. 

She needs, now more than anything, a Church and her own believers. 

Lilith's head hurts in worry every morning from that day on. Her meetings take less time and her children lead all the problems that can weaken her. Her advisers fear how human she became when Mary Wardwell was her home, but she did not believe it. She feels her eyes are now opened and the idea that gods don't make mistakes are being more and more crushed in her mind. 

The entity tries every second to be a worthy ruler, but how can she be one when she has done someone such irreparable harm? 

Lilith does not know the answer, but she promises herself that she will keep trying and for that reason, she presents the idea of her Church to her children and counselors, and it is successfully approved, but a new doubt grown in her chest. After all, who would represent her on earth? 

Like pieces of a puzzle, the image of a devout redhead takes place in her mind and she knows that there isn't a more competent representative for what she needs. 

The Queen's first impulse is a spell to visit the Spellmans, but she is weak and cannot waste energy, so her only form of communication is the most primitive she can think of. She writes a letter and instructs Stolas to deliver it. 

She does her best to write clearly and objectively but ends up rambling while talking about her wishes for her new church, so she interrupts herself with the request for a response to the offer offered to Zelda. 

The Queen of Hell awaits her answer for so many weeks, but then, some of her children invade her room. 

"Mother!", When Lucifer still reigned, this denomination was banned between the walls of Hell, but now, with freedom giving signs among lava and sulfur, its use was encouraged by Lilith, who silently found immeasurable comfort in the word. 

"Yes, my son?" 

"Zelda Spellman is coming.", The smallest of the five let out, flustered, and clearly enthusiastic about the idea of breaking the news first. 

"Did she die?", The words escaped through her confused lips, and for a second everything that the entity had in mind dissolved with the possibility of having lost the red-haired witch. 

"No! Mother, we helped her get here", he released again, excited by his active participation in delivering the news.

"What?", The confused eyes of the Queen of Hell went towards the oldest and tallest among them, prompting him for an explanation.

"We heard her crying out, but we prayed to Hell that her prayers would not disturb you until your strength was as potent as it was before, mother." He said calmly, but, when he was about to continue, the voice of the first, now low and self-conscious, spoke up and captivated Lilith's attention. 

"You couldn't invoke her, you would be too tired..." 

But the most experienced and articulate demon spoke again, leaving no room for another interruption. 

"So we gathered thirty demons and sent her coins from the boatman. We didn't know if she accepted it, but the boatman is rowing here and the waters are crystal clear, so he doesn't have a dead soul!"

"Are you angry?", The lower demon's frightened voice sounded again, but she answered it at once. 

"No! Of course not!", She was not angry, at all. She was terrified, yes, and more precisely happy of how well she had raised them, without even noticing, for them to prioritize her over themselves without noticing, "But don't do that again, ever again." 

The five demons in front of Lilith nodded and, prompted by this, she continued. 

"Great, now I need you to call the others and create what I describe to you before she arrives." 

Her children were strong and robust, consequently, their magic was easily controlled and shaped, so even with instabilities, the demons created a dining room near the throne. 

After checking the dishes on the table just to make sure they were all visually pleasing, Lilith sat on the edge and waited until the rhythmic heels sounded, alerting her to the company. 

Zelda nervously molded herself into a black dress. Her face was dramatically painted with heavy make-up, purposely applied to hide the reflection of sleepless nights. But Lilith noticed, and depriving the red-haired witch of a painful explanation, she just extended her right arm toward the second chair set on the table for Zelda to sit on. 

After running her fingers over the porcelain on the plate in front of her, Zelda forgot her main objective, whispering a new doubt. 

"A dinner. Why?" 

The entity's shoulders fall immediately, failing to contain her discomfort. Taking a deep breath and clinging to the idea that the oldest among the Spellmans would be her representative among the living and for that reason she deserved nothing less than the truth, Lilith replied: 

"I would like you to feel comfortable. My kingdom's habits before and during my empire are not well-liked among the living ones." 

So they were silent for a few minutes, looking into each other's eyes. 

Lilith's eyes were dark blue, thick as dense, and, seeing no familiarity in them, the mortal witch felt her stomach twist. Imagining it was an effect of having her soul hovering loose from her body, she blinked a few times, uselessly trying to find in the dark blue orbits the sunny afternoon's sky that she got used to. 

It was like something was wrong. Or rather, as if everything was wrong. 

The redhead had so many questions, her mind was a rough and confused sea, so she tried to sum up the dense, blind waters in a single wave. 

"Why do you confuse me?", Zelda's voice sounded calm, surprising even herself, wen she looked directly at Lilith dark blue eyes. 

"What?", Among all the possibilities of questions that the entity had created in her mind, none of them was this one. 

"You enchanted me, you seduced me, you veiled my body and cared for it after...", her throat ran dry and she couldn't finish the thought, but drawing strength from she didn't even know where, she continued, "You pushed me away and now you look for me... Why?" 

Zelda's eyes were moist, full of unshed tears that, after a deep sigh — silently calling for self-control — stopped threatening to stain her cheeks. Lilith, on the other hand, was static and completely speechless. 

Zelda had created feelings for the figure who shared moments with her, which, in the entity's mind, was extremely reasonable considering the affection and well-being that the teacher's body and the red-haired witch shared. But, she didn't have Mary Wardwell's conflicting tenderness for Zelda, so Lilith decided to do her best not to hurt Spellman, even without knowing exactly how she would do it. 

She would be calm and try to be careful, but she would not lie. 

"I was shaped to be the provider of human life for the whole earth, and in no time did love take over my flesh and who I am. But even so, my soul loved Lucifer. ", Her speech started restrained and her head bowed, but her eyes quickly found Zelda's again, "The problem was that who I deeply care about and myself wore so humiliated and harassed by their ego during so many millennia, that my feelings became flawed and disgusted by even the memory of his presence in distance." 

There Lilith stopped, worried that she was digressing about telling a loose story, but Zelda's eyes were still on hers, so taking a deep breath once more, she continued: 

"What I mean is, I love my demons and I know I will love my believers, but romantic love hasn't penetrated my heart for millennia and I'm sorry, Zelda Spellman, for giving you the wrong impression." 

Zelda's shoulders relaxed as if a weight had fallen from her shoulders, but at the same time, new tears formed in her eyes, and she hated the sudden need to cry. 

The redhead's heart tried futilely to cling to the relief of really knowing what Lilith felt and being able to move on, but the sadness and frustration of knowing that what lived in her mind was only a one-sided lonely dream hurt more than what she remembered. 

Her eyes fell towards the table, too embarrassed by everything she felt and everything that had ruined her over the past few years, but the greenish irises found two closed glass pots with dried herbs, and there she allowed herself to get lost. 

Lilith's eyes followed her, and imagining that, due to the redhead's condition, she wouldn't ask any more questions, she answered it anyway. 

"They are like potions; it is a gift. Take them with you and don't worry, their content will become material as soon as your soul returns to where it belongs. Take it once a day, like a tea. It will not make you forget, but it will make your nightmares go away, it will calm your heart fill with traumatic memories and flood you with wisdom to deal with it." 

Zelda lifted her head tightly, to hold the tears that formed in her eyes as she silently counted the seconds. Her skin burned at the sight of the red entity, so she just tried to divert attention from it. 

"Why two?" 

"I tried to deliver one to the human I imprisoned, but it was not welcomed", Lilith's eyes again left Zelda's face, as if the shame was growing and more significant when facing the pale face in front of her. 

"Human?" 

"Mary Wardwell, the owner of the body…" 

"Is she alive?", Zelda interrupted her suddenly and abruptly, forgetting even the tears that stained her skin. 

"I broke her...", Lilith's voice was thick and distressed, contrasting with the reddish and imposing figure in front of the redhead, "Just say that I will not return to her sight and that I promise that no other evil will fall on her... Also say that if she ever feels that she can or wants to talk to me, I will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, regardless of what it is." 

The redhead's head hurt, tormented by the conflict of her soul, stunned by what she heard, and crying out for the living body waiting for her in the world, in addition to being presented with clear excerpts from the letter she received from the Queen of Hell, about a church that preached love, protection, and freedom. 

Trying to concentrate, the redhead took the two glass pots in her hands and used her weight to drag the chair back, with the intention to leave. 

"Zelda...", Lilith's voice caught her attention again, and, when the pale face turned to the entity, she continued, "I admire your courage to come here, expose what you feel and ask for answers... That was what I saw in you and that's why I would like to have you represent me and what I believe..." 

A single tear slid across the skin of the redhead's face, containing a mixture of pride in having her courage celebrated by the first among women and a hint of shame at the mess her heart was in now. But still, she replied: 

"So that's how it's going to be it. It will be an honor, Queen Lilith." 

The Demon Mother saw Zelda get up and take careful steps towards the door to the throne room, but once again her attention was monopolized by Lilith. 

"Do you accept just one piece of advice?", At first the redhead was static, but she leaned towards the entity anyway, "I know what you felt that morning, and I know that your soul felt the reciprocity of your feelings... So just deliver what you feel to whom these feelings are really directed." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really fun chapter to write and I hope you like it. The idea of turning Lilith into red when she became truly divine (being the queen of hell) came to me when I found the art "Long Black Hair" by Anthony Ventura, from 2019. You can find it on google if you feel like it . 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I would love to know what you guys think. 
> 
> xoxo, Val  
> Twitter: @HausOfVal


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At that moment, the boatman, for the first time on that trip, turned to Zelda. He had furrowed brows and looked expectantly at the redhead's face, before addressing her just one question. 
> 
> "And are you going to give up living all that happiness painted by the waves, because she is mortal?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, I'm happy to know it's over, because I can't see myself consuming any work by Roberto Aguirre-Sacas. The good news is that Skye Marshall, Miranda Otto, Michelle Gomez and Lucy Davis now have an opportunity to be recognized for their quality productions. and that's all I have to say about part 4 of CHAOS
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't give up on this fanfic, because this last part made me want to finish it even more.

Zelda is guided by a demon to the margins of the end of Hell. She wants to run, get away as fast as she can just by imagining that this would make her chest hurt less. She needs to think about what she heard and, preferably, alone. But the demon beside her, short and a little lumpy, struggles to keep up with her leg speed, so she walks more slowly as her head travels through the last words she heard from Lilith. 

_"So just deliver what you feel to whom these feelings are really directed."_

What should that mean? 

She has vivid and romantic feelings, but surprisingly none of them surfaced while she was talking to the Queen of Hell. The witch was sure of this because, even with the unhappiness in her chest prompted by rejection, her mind cannot stop thinking that it should be worse. 

In her life, Zelda barely experienced rejection, but when it happened, still in her first century of life, it was catastrophic. Her soul fantasized that thanks to her desire for the blond wizard with the caramel eyes, the world should create a corresponding and irresistible attraction, but when that didn't happen her world fell apart at her feet. 

However, there, she felt a different pain in her heart. _Was her desire for the Queen of Hell really existent?_

Her stomach crinkled in anguish, but, before any rational response crossed her mind, a vulnerable voice caught her attention. 

"So... how is it?", The demon's voice sounded beside Zelda. 

"I beg your pardon?" Zelda gazed at the being beside her as she asked, still confused. 

"Having bones and stuff..." was his reply as he pointed at her arms. 

Paying more attention to him, and the almost childlike purity of her question, she decided to answer it in the same way that she would with a child. 

"Well... I don't really know, it's all I ever had." 

At that moment they both stopped, and Zelda's mind expelled the worries and confusions just for the sake of watching the demon calmly touch his own arm and address her with a gentle smile. 

"Makes sense." 

And a smile crossed her face, too, before a known boat was sighted on the banks of the castle. 

The boatman now smoked a pipe near the coast, and when she saw the two bodies heading for him, he took the small boat as close to the dry sand as possible. The next thing everyone around the castle heard was a startled scream when the red-haired soul was lifted from the ground by the demon who was only a third her size. 

"Put me down!", The redhead's voice sounded like a growl, but the little demon kept walking as if he didn't even hear her, towards the boat. 

Zelda's body was supported by his right shoulder, and her arms held the redhead's thighs tightly over the dark fabric of her dress. She struggled and, eventually, the body of the being who carried her also lost its balance. When this happened for the third time in less than five steps, the demon stopped, on top of the wet sand by the tide and addressed her: 

“If you fall into the water, my mother will be sad.”, He began with restraint, and that stopped Zelda from struggling and listening, “You are a soul! Souls don't weigh, I won't let you fall. I won't hurt you. I promise!” 

The demon's last two words repeated over and over in her mind until she was carefully placed into the wooden boat that came. Her eyes were still locked on the being in front of her and why he had transported her, while he ran across the sand towards the castle without saying goodbye. 

“Your condition is fragile. You are alive, without your body, and this water can and would hold you here.” Was the unsolicited but welcome response that the boatman gave to Zelda. 

In a sudden movement, the boat began to move across the lake that could not be touched, while her mind rewound the events of earlier interrupted by the demon. It was difficult to describe clearly what she was feeling, but it had all taken her off balance, as if she were thrown into space, adrift. The redhead could taste _hurt_ dancing on the tip of her tongue and swallowed hard, trying not to express the annoyance externally for being so directly and crudely rejected by someone so important. But at the same time, she expected that taste to be much worse than it actually was. 

“Excuse me, could you think a little lower? Or finish your dilemma more quickly? ” 

The boatman's voice rang out, and Zelda couldn't hide her surprise and irritation, arching her brows menacingly. 

"I'm sorry for being confused.", Was the reply that came out without brakes on her tongue in an ungracious tone. 

“Don't be sorry, talk to me! Maybe I will clear your, alive and full of pulsating blood, mind. ”, The boatman's voice continued to sound calm and curious, “Why you didn't stay longer on your visit to The New Queen?" 

"I already got the answers I needed... or a significant part of them," Zelda replied, her eyes focused on her own feet. 

“And you are still confused?”, The boatman continues to question, even with his back to her. 

Zela is silent for a few seconds, seriously thinking about how to answer it and if she wants to do it, but eventually, her mind filters out the correct words. 

"Sometimes the responses we receive confuse us even more." 

Again the silence is so dense that it almost cuts it off. The only thing that makes Zelda aware that time has not stopped is the sound of the water, I sit touched and pushed by the boatman's oars rhythmically. As if the sea had called her, the look of the redhead ends up being mesmerized by the waves, more precisely by another drawing of a future scene of her with _Lilith_ , or rather, Mary. 

In the waters, the reflection that passes between the waves is a sweet moment. In which they are embraced, both lying on the sofa at the Spellmans' Mortuary, smiling to themselves amid some books that Zelda doesn't know where they come from. 

The brunette smiles widely, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes look so _blue_... 

“Why don't you stay with the woman who appears in the water?”, The boatman's voice interrupts his thoughts again. 

"What?" 

One part of Zelda's brain simply could not believe that the man was still dissatisfied and continued to disturb her, but another part just implored him to have enough wisdom to help her. 

"The blue-eyed human.", His voice sounded soft, as he released both oars and pointed to the images of the waters. 

“She is a human! A mortal!”, Zelda's face twisted in confusion as the words escaped irritated and unrestrained by her lips, followed by herself forcing an angry breath through her nose. 

At that moment, the boatman, for the first time on that trip, turned to Zelda. He had furrowed brows and looked expectantly at the redhead's face, before addressing her just one question. 

"And are you going to give up living all that happiness painted by the waves, because she is mortal?" 

The rest of the trip took place in silence, and Zelda's thoughts became neutral as more unusual scenes ran through the waters. Unusual dinners cooked by Ambrose and Sabrina, quiet nights by the fireplace with Hilda and Dr. Cee, and of course, Mary Wardwell. 

When the boat came to a stop, caught between the long waves and the sand, Zelda finally came out of her trance and leaned out of the boat. 

"Do you mind waiting until I dock properly in the dry sand?", Was the question the boatman asked, even without waiting for the redhead's answer to jump off the boat and drag it. 

When dry sand was all that Zelda saw when she looked out of the boat, she received a gentle hand as a support to go. 

Surprisingly fast, the redhead reached the entrance to the Mansion of the Dead. This time, the confused and uncomfortable looks of souls trapped between the corridors were not even noticed by Zelda after all the redhead's mind was very busy taking her to a distant past. 

The witch's memory drew her past with the humans she knew well enough to even question having or starting a cordial relationship between them. 

First, it was a man. John, it was his name. He was tall, had a face marked by the sun and a body marked by manual work on a farm near the Spellmans' home, and eventually, he won her over. Everything happened quickly and hidden after all Zelda could not even dream of having her dirty little secret shared among any other sorcerer or witch. 

But eventually, he was the one who discovered her secret, exposing her to everyone who she was and his last word wore the promise that _he would burn her at the stake_. It took days for the memory of the others present to be erased, but Zelda did it anyway and promised herself that she would not approach any other humans again. 

The witch kept her promise fervently for centuries until Diana appeared. 

The redhead despised the human with all the strength she could gather in her chest, and she never bothered to hide it. Cold and cutting words, refusing to be in the same places as her, everything was perfectly designed by Zelda to avoid the minimum contact with the blonde one. And it worked too well. 

When Diana and Edward died, Zelda felt her heart stop. She couldn't imagine her life without her brother and it cost her many months crying, but when she thought of Diana, still with the pain of grief so real and palpable, Zelda felt _remorse_ and _regret_. 

Remorse has instigated so much suffering through the years, always loaded with thousands of "what ifs". _What if I had tried to understand my brother's feelings? What if I had shown more sympathy to Diana?_

As for the regret that sucked the vitality from her chest, this was more complicated to explain. _Regret_ is about changing attitudes, is to allow her own evolution and, even without having seen it before, she was living this opportunity. Mary was there, and the glass bottles filled with herbs on her chest was a reminder of how real she is. 

For a second, everything was gone and the redhead could only think of what was happening in the brunette's mind. 

Zelda didn't know any Catholics, except Diana, and that frustrated her enough when she thought of the lack of information she had about the blue-eyed woman. But like a light bulb in a cartoon, the idea that Mary also didn't know much about what she experienced while forced to extract an entity's desires, startled her. And, lying in the bed where she arrived, Zelda knew exactly what she was going to do, after all there was an opportunity to make her regret worth something, along with an uncontrollable desire to simply be there, with a certain brunette with blue eyes. 

When Zelda woke up, back in her material body, the time she waited lying down was just what was needed to know that she was able to be upon her own legs. Hilda was there, beside the bed and helped her to steady herself cordially as she started to get up. 

"How was it?", The blonde's voice sounded a familiar mix of concern and curiosity that Zelda was already used to, and in another moment that sound would make her smile or huff, but not now. 

“I need to find Mary! Now!”, Zelda's speech sounded groggy, even though her body had already found the vertical axis. 

“Hey, wait, you need to calm down Zelds! What's that in bed?” The younger sister among the Spellmans asked, pointing to two unknown bottles. 

"Lilith, gave it to me... and to Mary.", The redhead's speech sounded more cohesive and stronger as she followed, with a sweater in one hand and one of the glass bottles sent by Lilith in the other, towards the stairs. 

"But Zelds, do you even know where she lives?", 

"I...", but Zelda's speech was cut off by a paper that materialized in Hilda's hands, with the writings _"After the second highway, isolated cottage with clear walls and a dead flower bed under the windows."_

Still not overcoming the initial shock, Hilda robotically handed the paper over to her sister. 

Zelda was determined to leave, just a few steps from the front door of her house, but, as if she forgot something, she turned towards her sister and, with a bright smile, said: 

"By the way, I am the High Priestess of the Church of Lilith." 

Zelda wanted to teleport herself, but her body was hurting a lot and the note sent to her was too vague to create a mental image strong enough to send her there, so the witch just drove to the owner of the corroding blue eyes home. And Mary Wardwell, for the first time in months, wasn't even thinking about Zelda Spellman. 

While she was still subverting to Lilith's wishes, she was taking Mary Wardwell's body to work at the school. Her job was taken in a hurry, tests were corrected without being revised and with poorly organized classes, all thanks to the entity, until Lilith got Sabrina's trust, and eventually asked for early rest from the school in her name. 

The Baxter High employees were surprised, but due to complaints of frequent mistakes in corrections of tests, something extremely unusual coming from the brunette, they associated the request for a vacation with tiredness, thus granting Mary a year to stay away from school and return to the next class. At the time, the brunette didn't know how grateful she would be for this, but while she was wearing a long, high-necked blouse to get back to work, she managed to give her first sincere smile to the mirror. 

_She could move on. She could be strong on her own. What happened to her would not make her afraid. She would remain a good teacher and her life would be exactly as it was before._

Except for the dark vomit that eventually terrified her, or the bluish scars that are drawn all over her body that no makeup could cover, or the sleep that disturbed her and woke her with tears in her eyes and her heart running. 

The memory of the blue scars makes the brunette gasp as she looks at the mirror. She tried everything to hide them, but the grotesque blue line continued to escape from the sleeve of her blouse to the palm of her right hand. 

_Maybe I need gloves._

Then the brunette heads to the stairs, ignoring the record player with her favorite record in the living room. 

But as Mary opens drawers in her closet in her room, looking for the fabric that would hide this new part of herself, a redhead was nervous outside the front door. 

She knew she needed to knock on the door, but the fear of not knowing how to group the right words plagued her. Being inundated with courage and a little recklessness, her hand travels robotically towards the doorbell. 

_Now there's no turning back..._

With the shock of hearing the high-pitched bell, the drawer that Mary was closing delicately almost broken with the strength of her touch. The brunette hadn't received any visitors since the day she woke up without Lilith inside her, so the ambiguous sound ended up becoming almost unknown, to the point that, if it was broken, Mary wouldn't notice the difference. 

Still on her room, she opened her bedroom curtains and fixed her blue eyes on the redhead in front of her door. 

"Zelda...", is the soft whisper that escapes her lips warms her heart. 

It had been weeks since she had said the witch's name out loud, trying her hardest to forget her. Mary doesn't like to think about it, but in her mind, a voice kept saying that Zelda knew she was there, she knew she was alive, she just didn't care enough to visit her. 

However, here was the redhead, in front of her house, wanting to talk to her. 

Her brain screams for her to curl up in bed and pretend that she is not at home, that she tries to protect herself and stay away from everything that can remind the brunette of what happened and the scars still open that exist in her soul, however her heart wants to see the redhead's face again, and, without even realizing it, Mary goes down the stairs and opens the door a little bit. 

When the blue eyes meet the green ones, Zelda is enchanted by the image she sees. It is the same body, much thinner and with darker bags in the eyes, but still the image mirrors a delicacy and a softness that scares and enchants her. Her eyes are so blue, such a beautiful blue that Zelda feels her own eyes being mesmerized. 

The redhead eventually swallows the surprise and the urge to simply smile while saying "You are alive!", as the icy glass in her hands raises her emotional walls again and, while remembering the power and importance of the herbs in her hands, takes over a serious voice while saying: 

"I'm here in Lilith's name." 

It is more than explicit the change in the face of the brunette in front of her. Before there was a softness in the look, something sweet and curious, even if frightened, but, when the name of the entity was uttered by the redhead, the brunette's eyebrows wrinkled and her jaw looks visibly tense. 

“Well, I don't want anything that came from that... thing! Go away!" 

And as quickly as it was opened, the door slammed shut so hard that the red hair waved in the wind. If Zelda were asked to describe what she felt, she would probably say that she was scared, completely surprised, and unhappy. 

_This it is it? Did all of it just go... wrong? Do I just leave now?_

Her first impulse was to go home, defeated and unhappy, wondering what it could have been, but a completely unknown and childish side of herself just doesn't accept it, and, even before she realizes it, she finds herself knocking on the door again and again, with even more strength. 

"Please... You did not listen to me? Go away! Go away!”, Is the voice that sounds, loud and frightened, from inside the house. 

"No!" Is a simple answer, but it still comes out cautiously through the witch's lips, "I won't leave until you open that door and let me in!" 

The silence erodes the redhead's mind for minutes, but she keeps knocking on the door, without rest or pauses, until the same voice as before, still intimidated, sounds from the inside out. 

"Why do you want to come in so much? I don't wanna be hurt again... Please, just go away." 

Of all the questions Zelda expected, this is not one of them, and this is more than made explicit by her answer. 

“Honestly, I also can't explain why. Just, please... Just open it. I could never hurt you. ” 

Once again, the silence settles but even before expected, the door is wide open and a shy brunette with a low look warns her. 

“You have five minutes. Today is my first day back to work and I do not intend to be late.” 

Zelda did not expect a pleasant or cheerful conversation, but nothing had prepared her for one that would start so uncomfortably. A forgotten vinyl played low notes of a song unknown to Zelda in the right corner of the room, Mary was sitting with her hands on her knees in an armchair next to the record player, and the witch ended up sitting on the couch, relatively distant from Mary and the music. 

Since the day the spell that her husband cast her, the redhead hasn't listened to any music yet. Sabrina tried to once, though the sound made the older witch's skin crawl and a strangled sob escaped her throat as tears formed in her eyes. After that, no other member of the Spellman family tried. 

The redhead was not comfortable yet with the sound of the harmonious balance of notes on the record player that triggered uncomfortable and painful memories, but something made her prefer to keep her distress hidden. Or perhaps, that affliction was not even so present. 

More precisely, the chords of the music, which amid the awkward silence of that living room echoed without limits, took Zelda's mind the night Lilith freed her from that musical torment. 

While the record player did its job, Zelda watched the one in front of her and noticed that Mary had a surprisingly well-known softness. The way her hand was positioned conservatively on her knee, on top of her dark clothes, creating another layer to hide the end of the length of her skirt, or how her eyes focused on Zelda's face and then missed it as if starting any kind of conversation it was more than she could take, all of this with the tireless melody of the record player making a statement slip dry between the redhead's lips. 

“You sang this song for me, while...”, Zelda's voice sounded cracked and unhappy, even amid the happiness of seeing yet another missing piece of the puzzle of her life returning to its original place, “It was you who took care of me?” 

"Yes.", Mary replied softly before smiling sweetly, just like the smile that Zelda saw in the waters, but quickly her mouth closed and her hand went nervously to her dark hair, searching unsuccessfully for any loose strand in the tight bun, "I asked for control so I could... take care of you..." 

A new wave of silence flooded the living room, leaving Zelda stuck in her thoughts, but now with her lips slightly lifted, a gesture that encouraged Mary to continue talking. 

"It was also me when we had lunch, or when we woke up in the morning..." 

"Was it you while we had sex?", The question was asked subtly, but Mary still felt all the oxygen in the room is taken from her, her face and neck red, she shook her head negatively. 

Zelda felt that the floor below her was gone, her heart started beating too fast and her hands started to sweat and tremble on their own, all while the thought of having touched Mary the way she was touched at her wedding prompted her to vomit. 

"Oh, I'm sorry... Oh my... I'm sorry... I didn't know... I..." 

And so the red-haired witch, horrified, stood up and took a step back, but surprisingly the owner of the blue eyes stood up and took a step towards her. 

"It's okay, I was at slept...", the brunette said, extremely embarrassed, but still determined, looking deeply into Zelda's eyes and touching her hands gently, intending to make the tremors disappear, "I didn't feel anything during those nights... I haven't experienced any of them... I just slept because... feeling all that when I'm not aware or in charge of what my body does... it's not good... " 

When Zelda was about to respond, showing that she understood, three verses sounded on the record player: 

_I am a woman in love_

_And I'm talkin' to you_

_And I know how you feel_

"It seems that the music spoke for me...", 

"All the three lines?", The blue eyes shone in silent expectation and Zelda found herself lost in them again, 

"I'm almost sure." 

And so, Zelda Spellman, the one who hated contact with humans, touched the dark-haired woman's face and, receiving the beautiful blue eyes closing in anticipation, kissed her. 

It was fast and simple. Just a simple touch of lips, but it was still so different. Mary felt as if she were levitating, the purest magic growing inside her chest as the memory of kisses exchanged in the past mingled with the present. 

When their lips separate, a sad smile graced the professor's lips, while, unable to police herself, she wrapped a red strand of Zelda's hair between her fingers and positioned it behind her ear. Her heart ached, but she didn't want to live in more pain, so, with her nose starting to redden and a choked voice, she addressed the redhead again. 

"I... I'm just a human and you... I know you don't like humans... And..." 

"I like you, I like you a lot..." 

The confusion was explicit in the redhead, but, even before her selfish desires instigated another kiss, just another reminder of how passionate she was, Mary Wardwell spoke the words that cut her heart the most. 

"You like... Lilith... a lot." 

The silence settled in the room again, almost making Zelda's thoughts heard, and when she finally understands what Mary means, a single word was uttered by the redhead again. 

"No." 

The strangled and even irritated sound made Mary look at Zelda's face again, where a single tear ran down her right cheek. 

"I had sex with a beautiful woman who had unexpected and intelligent moves... but I fell in love with the one who took care of me..." 

The green eyes delivered a terrifying truth, and even if Mary didn't believe it, it was impossible to ignore what the redhead whispered, her cold hands holding the brunette's face between them. 

"I'm in love with you, Mary Wardwell!" 

So a gentle smile appeared over Mary's lips again, and her eyes filled with tears. At another point of her life, Zelda would ask if she felt the same, but as when she felt hands holding her by the waist and pushing her towards the sofa before her lips touched hers, the redhead just smiled against her skin before being hugged tightly, that was the only answer she needed. 

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, thank you for giving a brazilian writer's work and her wonderful (also brazilian) translator Laura (@merylfisherr on twitter).
> 
> xoxo,  
> Val


End file.
